


skate to the rhythm (of my heart)

by buttsocks



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Dancing, M/M, Pining, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, UST, VictUuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttsocks/pseuds/buttsocks
Summary: Renowned ice dance legend Victor Nikiforov is desperate for a change. He’s at the top of his game, but his life has never felt more empty. After his disastrous finish at the Grand Prix Finals, Yuuri Katsuki needs a skating partner if he wants to continue his career.Their bodies may be in sync on the rink, but real life is a lot more messy. Victor and Yuuri have what it takes to win, but will they lose something far more precious in pursuit of the gold?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the ice dancing AU that nobody asked for—well two people asked for it. Thank you, dear anonymous people who ~~enabled me~~ cheered me on from the sidelines. This fic is dedicated to you! 
> 
> For those of you who aren’t familiar with ice dancing, here is some basic info. 
> 
> Ice dancing is NOT the same thing as pairs skating. In ice dancing, no jumps (except for singles), separate spins, lifts over the head, or death spirals are allowed. The skating style is very different from what you see in pairs/singles. Ice dancing began as something similar to ballroom dancing on ice, and even though it has evolved quite a bit since then, the emphasis is still on two people dancing together on the ice, as opposed to skating together. As a result, while there are technical elements in ice dancing, and they are very important, there is more of a focus on artistry, fluidity, and performance than there is in pairs skating.
> 
> The moves that you see performed in Victor and Yuuri’s skate at the end of ep 12 are borrowed from ice dancing. Why? Because it’s prettier and more romantic than pairs skating. This is a [literal fact](https://youtu.be/de4vrDMftik).
> 
> I’m taking a lot of liberties with reality for this fic. Often, at this level, ice dancing pairs have been skating together since their teens and are from the same country (although not always in both cases). Additionally, ice dancing only has M/F pairs. In the world of this fic, any gender configuration of pairs is allowed. All pairs compete in the same division, regardless of gender configuration (there is no gender separation like in men's singles and women's singles). I’m pairing skaters from different countries, and Yuuri and Victor don’t start skating together until they’re 23 and 27.
> 
> I don’t actually know anything about ice dancing beyond what I learned from watching a gazillion youtube videos of ice dancing performances and what I google, so there is probably a lot in this fic that is wrong.
> 
> Some differences from the YOI universe: I’m setting this story in Detroit rather than Hasetsu so Yuuri and Victor can take advantage of Celestino’s coaching. Since they are an experienced pair (albeit not with each other), Celestino’s approach is a little more hands off. In this fic, Yuuri does most of the lifts (this is different from the end of ep 12). I chose to do it this way because in the ep 10 ED, Yuuri does some crazy lifts with Christophe, who is like 6 feet tall. Plus, much is made of his “stamina,” so I figure Yuuri’s probably got the strength to do the lifts with Victor who (although 3 inches taller than Yuuri) is shorter and has a slighter build than Christophe. Also, usually the lifted partner (Victor) is the one that everyone’s eyes are on, while the lifting partner (Yuuri) is more in the background. I thought it might be interesting to start the story with this dynamic and explore how it evolves as the characters grow.

Yuuri keeps his eyes glued to the floor as he crosses the lobby of the Iceberg Skating Palace in Sochi. Celestino is ahead of him, running interference with the crowd. Yuuko, his skating partner has abandoned him in favor of spending a romantic evening with Takeshi. She had offered to let him tag along, but after their last conversation, he needs some time alone. He closes his eyes, trying to think of something, anything other than the impending death of his skating career. He isn’t taking it well, but it’s not as though he’s ever counted emotional fortitude among his strengths. His mind replays their conversation yet again.  


She gets him alone as soon as they’re done talking to the press.  


“I want to retire,” she says.  


He can’t speak for a few seconds. “Is it because of the pair camel spin? I promise I’ll work harder so that I don’t make a mistake like that again.”  


His forehead still aches from where she’d clipped him with her skate because he’d been in the wrong position. He finished the skate while blood dripped into his eye in a sluggish stream. A pair of medics had descended upon him as soon as he came off the ice, one checking for a concussion, while the other swabbed the gore away from the cut with antiseptic. It still stings.  


Yuuko pats him on the cheek. “No, it has nothing to with that, or with the twizzles from the short dance. It’s got nothing to do with you.”  


“Then why?”  


“I’m tired of skating. I’m sick of the endless training and traveling, and I miss my family. I want to live like a normal person. I want to finally spend some time with Takeshi and have kids. I never cared about skating the way you do. If it wasn’t for you, I would have stopped a long time ago. Besides, you can’t deny that I’m holding you back.”  


“You’re not holding me back. I was the one that made the big mistakes today.”  


“Yes, but you’re also the one that everyone loves to watch. I’m just trying to keep up.”  


“You’re a good skater.”  


“I’m not good enough, at least not as good as you need me to be to get to the next level. I’m retiring, Yuuri. Please don’t try to change my mind. I want us to part as friends.”  


“Will you at least finish out the season?”  


“Maybe. I don’t know.”  


He hugs her so she can’t see the tears in his eyes, then excuses himself to the bathroom until he can pull himself together.  


Now, an hour later walking across the lobby, he’s still swallowing tears.  


“Yuuri!”  


He shakes himself free from his reverie. That voice sounds vaguely familiar, though he can’t place it. He glances up in time to see Victor Nikiforov waving in his direction. He squints and half-raises a hand before Nikiforov’s gaze rolls past him as a blond bundle of energy, Yuri Plisetsky, the Junior Russian ice dance prodigy, rockets by.  


“Your edges looked terrible,” Nikiforov says, wrapping an arm around Yuri’s shoulders.  


“Whatever, we still won,”  


“Maybe, but don’t expect to get away with that kind of thing in the senior division.”  


An older man, who Yuuri recognizes as one of the coaches pulls Yuri aside to give him an earful.  


As if drawn by Yuuri’s gaze, Nikiforov looks up and meets his eyes. His face goes blank for a second, before it is plastered over with a smile.  


“Commemorative photo?” he asks.  


Yuuri wonders if this is what Hell is like. It’s bad enough to be trounced on international television and dumped by one’s skating partner in the same day, but to not even register as competition by his idol—he turns his back and follows Celestino past the sliding glass doors and into the chill night air.

****Victor****

Victor tells himself to stay firm as he watches the smile slide from Christophe’s face. Just a few hours ago, they were standing together on the podium, holding up their gold medals for the cameras. Now Victor is imploding both of their careers.  


“Victor, you can’t retire. You’re just feeling burned out right now. It’s been a tough season.” Chris’ jaw muscles twitch with repressed emotion.  


Victor doesn’t correct him. It hasn’t been a tough season. They demolished their competition just as easily as they did last year and the year before that. Their program had been a masterpiece of artistry and technical elegance. But when Victor was on the ice, it had felt like a dead thing. He moved through the holds, step sequences and lifts like a zombie, his body taking over while his mind went blank.  


He hates this. He hates the disappointment and the anger on Christophe’s face. They have ten years of history together, and although for over half of them, they’ve been little more than work colleagues, he’s still affected by Chris’ pain.  


“I’m sorry, Chris, I know this puts you in a bad spot, but you’re an amazing skater. You’ll find a new partner in no time.”  


“I don’t want another partner. Just tell me why. You’re at the top of your game. Why are you retiring now? If you were unhappy you could have said something. We can work this out. It doesn’t have to be the end.”  


Victor doesn’t quite understand it himself. All he knows is that he is going to scream if he has to skate another season.  


“I’m truly sorry, but I can’t do it anymore. When I think about next year, I just feel empty.”  


“Well, don’t announce anything yet. Give yourself some time and distance to think. Who knows, maybe you’ll find your inspiration again.”  
Victor gives Chris a kiss on the cheek before turning away. “I hope you’re right,” he whispers.

****

The GPF Banquet is shaping up to be just as stultifying as ever, although some novelty is added when Yakov parks Yuri by his side with instructions to allow him only one glass of champagne, and for God’s sake don’t let him insult anyone important. He stalks off to break up yet another argument between Anya and Georgi before Victor can object. 

Damn, when had Victor become the responsible one?  


He diffuses Yuri’s bad mood by posing for a selfie with him. The referee drifts up with a glass of wine in her hand and makes small talk. Yuri, for once is behaving himself, so 

Victor lets his mind wander away from the conversation. A familiar man tags behind Celestino on his way to the drinks table. Where has he seen him before?  


Victor tugs on Yuri’s arm. “Who’s that.”  


Yuri glances across the room, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “The other Yuuri. He skated against you and Chris in the ice dance, but he totally bombed. Caught a skate to the face in the free dance and cut his forehead open. It’s been all over instagram. How did you not know?”  


Victor shrugs. He’s been avoiding everyone both in person and online since his conversation with Chris.  


The man behind Celestino turns his head, giving Victor a profile view of his face. It’s the fan from earlier. Except he hadn’t been a fan. God, he is such an asshole.  


“Wow, you just got the weirdest look on your face. Are you okay?”  


Is he okay? How can he even begin to answer that question?

Victor keeps half an eye on the other Yuuri all evening. He’s not sure whether it would be worse to apologize or to pretend that his gaffe never happened. He drinks a few too many glasses of champagne to cover his nerves, and after he confiscates a second glass of champagne from his charge, realizes that maybe he’s not watching Yuri as closely as he should.  


As he drains the last sip from Yuri’s glass, he decides that he doesn’t care. He’s not a babysitter. Where has the little monster disappeared to anyway?  


A crowd has formed around the dance floor. Mila waves frantically at him. What has Yuri done now?  


The two Yuris square off in the middle of the crowd. Yuuri’s suit jacket has disappeared and he looks much the worse for wear. His Yuri is mostly sober—at least he’s never seen a drunk person pull off that dance move. Then it’s Yuuri’s turn to go, and Victor finds himself proved wrong. How the hell can someone who can barely stand upright balance on one arm while doing kicks in the air? He pops up to his feet, and gives Yuri a chance to go. Yuri tries, but he can’t match it.  


The pair shows off a few more moves. Victor snaps some photos. He might need blackmail later, and also that kick Yuuri did might look cool on the ice if he changed it just a little bit. No. He’s done with that life. The last thing he wants is to get dragged back in.  


He heads to the cash bar for something stronger than champagne.

Two shots later, and he’s in trouble. Chris, never one to keep his mouth shut has blabbed to anyone who will listen about his and Victor’s impending split. Upon hearing this, Yuuri, when did he wrap his tie around his head, throws himself against Victor’s chest like a damsel in distress.  


“Victor, you can’t leave us now! I know, let’s have a dance contest. The winner will be your dance partner next year.”  


Everyone looks at Victor. If he wants to, he can squash Yuuri like a bug. Most of the people here probably want him to. But he's not the sort of person who tears people down for his own amusement. Besides, it’s nice to be around someone who actually says what he’s thinking, and damn, Yuuri’s shirt must be made of the thinnest fabric known to man because Victor can feel the heat of his body like a brand. Yuuri shouldn’t be attractive. He reeks of alcohol and sweat. Half his forehead is covered by a flesh-colored plaster. This guy is a mess. Victor can’t keep the smile from his face. It feels strange to smile a real smile. It must be the vodka. It can’t be this importunate no-name skater, even if he does have a nice ass.  


“Sure. Sounds like fun. Whoever wins the dance-off can be my skating partner next year.”  


“I’m in!” Chris calls.  


Victor heads to the bar for another shot. What has he just agreed to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For extra funtimes, I’m going to have a video of of a different ice dance performance at the end of every chapter. Some of them will adhere to a theme. Some won’t. In the spirit of YOI’s GPF banquet, [here ](https://youtu.be/lc7m_Efq9xc)is Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron skating to “I Can’t Feel my Face When I’m with You,” in their exhibition skate at the 2016 World Championships. It also features some A+ shirt grabbing from Papadakis—get it, girl!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri freezes in shock. Aren’t people supposed to wake up from their nightmares? This can’t be happening.
> 
> He barely manages not to slam the door shut. “Did I just see Victor Nikiforov asleep in my bed?” _and not wearing a shirt?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you couldn't tell, I'm starting the timeline a little earlier than YOI does in order to keep Yuuri in Detroit.
> 
> Also, I'm going to start each chapter with a running list of the latest ice dance pairings so you can keep them straight.
> 
> Woohoo! This is going to be fun!
> 
>  **Ice Dancing Pairs**  
>  Christophe x Georgi  
> Mila x Anya  
> ??? x Yuri  
> Yuuri x Victor
> 
>  **Singles Skaters**  
>  Phichit ;_;

AP Newswire--BIG SHAKEUP FOR RUSSIA’S ICE DANCE TEAMS

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA (AP) - Just three days after taking gold at the Grand Prix Final, Victor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacommeti have announced the end of their ice skating partnership. Olympic gold medalists, five-time World Champions, and seven-time Russian National Champions, Nikiforov and Giacommeti have been competing together for over a decade. Both skaters denied that the split was due to personal differences, Giacommeti’s representative stating, “they’re just looking to explore different options.” When asked about a reunion in future seasons, he said, “nothing’s off the table at this time.” This news comes in the wake of rumors of Nikiforov’s impending retirement. Nikiforov could not be reached for comment.

Giacommeti has confirmed that he will be teaming up with Russian skater Georgi Poplovich next season. Poplovich will finish the season with his current partner, Anya Sokolov, who will be teaming up with Mila Babicheva next year. Yuri Plisetsky has not yet announced who will be taking Babicheva’s place at his side.  


With the current chaos, is this the year that Russian dominance in ice dance will finally be broken?

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

****Yuuri****

For what feels like the hundredth time this month, Yuuri is fighting tears. Yuuko stands at the edge of the rink, a confused frown on her face. She’s flying back to Japan tomorrow morning. Already, her half of the apartment is empty, somehow darker, as if the force of her personality had been a talisman holding bleak reality at bay.

“I-I wanted to give you something, a going-away present.” He hands her his phone and shows her where to push the play button before skating to the center of the ice. 

At his nod, she presses play, and sound from the mini-speakers hooked up to his phone drifts across the rink. Yuuri lets the music fill him, and then he begins to skate. It’s Christophe and Victor’s free dance program from this year, with some modifications to make it suit a single skater. 

The song is an aria about a man begging his lover not to leave him. Yuuri knows that it’s too late to ask Yuuko to change her mind. He’s not asking her stay. He’s showing her how he feels in the best way he knows. He wants her to understand how much their time together has meant to him, and that while he’s sad, and worried about the future, nothing will stop him from caring about her. Soon, the last few notes echo through the rink and in the end he’s left alone in the center of the ice.

Yuuko engulfs him into a huge hug as soon as he’s within reach.

“Yuuri, is this what you’ve been doing these past month?”

He nods into her shoulder.

“That was beautiful.”

“Thank you.” His voice is rough.

She pulls away from him. “Promise me that you won’t stop skating. This is what you were meant to do.”

He looks away from her. “I’m not sure I can start over again with a new partner. You’re the only person I’ve ever skated with.”

“I have faith in you, Yuuri. You just need to open yourself up a bit more.”

He nods, clamping his lips shut on the argument that he doesn’t _want_ to open himself up. If anyone were to see all of the ugliness hidden inside him, they would never want to stay by his side.

****

He wakes up the next afternoon to pounding on his bedroom door. He’d stayed up all night to help Yuuko finish packing, riding with her to the airport in the predawn chill. Practice is canceled today, possibly canceled forever. He’s looking forward to sleeping in for once in his life. If that confounded knocking would just stop.

He drags himself out of bed and yanks the door open. Phichit, up-and-coming males singles skater, and his only remaining roommate stands in the threshold brandishing his phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you made a viral video?”

“What?”

“There’s a video of you skating to Victor and Christophe’s program on youtube. I think it might be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. Or the saddest. Should I be worried about you?”  
Yuuri shakes his head, clearing the last of the cobwebs. “Someone recorded that? The rink was supposed to be closed.” He wants to crawl under a rock and hide forever.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t. Someone filmed you and uploaded it to the Internet. People are already making edits and parody videos. This one is my favorite.” Phichit pulls up a video that shows Victor and Christophe’s free dance and Yuuri’s skate side by side. Yuuri turns away. He can’t watch.

 _Is it possible to die of embarrassment,_ he wonders.

Phichit shows him a few more versions, including the one set to bouncy pop music. Yuuri almost likes that one.

****

He’s not ready to face the rink, so instead he runs to his second favorite refuge, the ballet studio. Minako waves him into an empty classroom and leaves him to it. Yuuri stretches on the barre and does a few warm-ups before getting down to business.

He’s used to skating for an audience, and even in a practice setting the idea of people watching doesn’t bother him. If it were any other program, he wouldn’t mind, but this had been something personal. He’d exposed a part of himself for Yuuko that he usually keeps hidden. The idea of strangers seeing that side of him makes him want to climb into a hole and never come out. Maybe he should retire. If he does it now, at least he won’t have to face whatever fallout this video generates.

The sun is setting when he finally returns home. He pulls his shirt away from his body. It’s sticky with sweat and cooling rapidly in the winter chill. He doesn’t need a mirror to know what he looks like. His face, still red from exertion shines with oil. He desperately needs a shower. His clothes fit a little tighter than usual. He hasn’t seen much point in watching his diet lately. Since he and Yuuko bombed Nationals, his skating season is over for the year.

Phichit yanks the door open as soon as Yuuri puts his key in the lock. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

Yuuri checks his pockets. “Uh, sorry. I must have left it here. Is everything okay?”

Phichit makes a frustrated noise.

“Are you alright?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were expecting a house guest. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but in this case some warning would have been nice.”

“Um, I wasn’t expecting anybody. What’s going on?”

Phichit’s eyes go wide with surprise.

“You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Yuuri’s worried. Has something happened?

Phichit claps his hands over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “Follow me,” he says, and heads down the hall to the bedrooms.

Silently, he eases open the door to Yuuri’s room. Yuuri freezes in shock. Aren’t people supposed to wake up from their nightmares? This can’t be happening.

He barely manages not to slam the door shut. “Did I just see Victor Nikiforov asleep in my bed?” _and not wearing a shirt?_

He tries to wipe from his mind the image of the expanse of bare shoulder revealed where the blanket had slipped.

 _“What is he doing here?”_ Yuuri hisses.

Phichit shakes his head, wiping away tears of laughter. “I don’t know. He showed up a couple hours ago and sort of just made himself at home. I tried to call you.”

Yuuri begins to pace. “He’s probably here to kill me, or maybe sue me. God, I hope he kills me.”

Phichit plants himself in Yuuri’s path. “I’m not letting him kill anyone. Besides, he didn’t seem upset. Maybe everything’s going to be okay.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to argue that nothing’s going to be okay ever again, but at that moment, the door swings open to reveal a sleep-disheveled Victor Nikiforov. Not only does he have no shirt on, but he’s also wearing a pair of Yuuri’s pajama bottoms. They sit lower than they do on Yuuri, just barely managing not to fall off. Yuuri tries to pry his eyes away from the trail of blond hair peeking up from his pajamas without much success.

“Yuuri! Hi,” Victor says brightly.

Yuuri manages not to die of a heart-attack, but it’s a close call.

“Uh, hi.” He forces his eyes up to Victor’s face.

Victor rubs at the back of his head, ruffling his silver hair. Yuuri is taken with the temptation to smooth it back into place. He keeps his hands to himself.

“I’m going to be your new skating partner. You still need a partner, yes?”

“Yes,” Yuuri squeaks.

“Good. We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to win gold at the Grand Prix Final next year. You’re used to working with a woman, so we’ll have to build up your muscles so you can take my weight. And your holds are sloppy. We’ll have to work on those.”

He raises Yuuri’s shirt a few inches and pinches the skin at Yuuri’s side. “We’ll have to work on this too. You’ve been letting yourself run to fat.”

Yuuri glares. Sure, he’s been a little lax with calorie counting lately, but he hasn’t gained _that_ much weight.

“Now, where am I staying?”

Yuuri and Phichit trade looks. They need a new roommate, but they haven’t exactly talked this over.

Phichit shrugs and gives a little nod that says, “I don’t mind if you don’t.” 

Yuuri takes a big swallow. “You can take Yuuko’s old room. Here, I’ll show you. Do you have any luggage?”

Victor shakes his head. “My suitcases got lost at the airport. This is all I have.” He points to a small messenger bag. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrowed your clothes. I saw these on the dresser and I didn’t have anything clean to wear.”

Yuuri can’t stop his eyes from traveling up and down Victor’s body, pausing a second too long at the precarious way the pants droop off his hipbones. Is he naked underneath? Yuuri’s brain short-circuits.

“It’s not a problem. No problems here. I’ll go find some sheets. We haven’t gotten rid of Yuuko’s old bed yet, so you can sleep there tonight.” Yuuri’s cheeks burn at the word “bed.”

“I’ll help you,” Victor offers, “it will give us a chance to get to know each other better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItdY-lst8yI) have Davis and White’s FD to “Phantom of the Opera” at the 2010 US Nationals. This doesn't really fit with any sort of theme, except maybe the theme of Yuuri wanting to hide in the catacombs under an opera house so he never has to see anyone's face again. ;_;


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he had hopped on the plane, he had imagined that his arrival would be like a scene from a romantic movie. The music swelling to a crescendo as Yuuri leaps into his arms, the object of his hopeless yearning returned to him at last.
> 
> Instead, he’d been greeted by Yuuri’s confused roommate.

****Victor****

 _What the hell is going on?_ Victor wonders as he helps Yuuri tuck in the top sheet. When he had hopped on the plane, he had imagined that his arrival would be like a scene from a romantic movie. The music swelling to a crescendo as Yuuri leaps into his arms, the object of his hopeless yearning returned to him at last.

Instead, he’d been greeted by Yuuri’s confused roommate. He was nice enough, but not the person Victor wanted. Still, he should have been able salvage the situation. He’d taken a shower to wash off the lingering miasma of long distance travel, and spent an hour or so making awkward conversation with Phichit before his need for privacy overwhelmed his good manners. 

After that, he made a new plan. He would pretend to nap in Yuuri’s bed while he waited for him to arrive. That should make a suitably romantic impression. Yuuri would come home and find him practically gift-wrapped in his sheets. He’d arranged himself in a seductive pose on Yuuri’s bed and settled down to wait. And wait. Until he actually fell asleep.

The next thing he knows, the door creaks open and shut, and a pair of male voices whisper in an undertone Victor can’t quite make out. He surreptitiously swipes a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and waits for Yuuri’s cry of surprised delight. The voices continue to rumble outside the room. Victor sits up and accepts defeat. So perhaps this isn’t the Hollywood reunion he had imagined, but it isn’t as though all is lost.

He gets out of bed, tugging the drawstring of his pajamas so they hang just barely on the edge of decency. When it comes to seduction he uses every tool at his disposal. He fixes his most charming smile on his face and opens the door. He tries not to feel too disappointed when Yuuri doesn’t fall into his arms. He keeps the smile in place, even as Yuuri’s goes blank with terror. Terror? Why is he afraid?

He offers a greeting, hating the way his English goes all halting and awkward when he’s nervous. Yuuri still looks terrified. Victor continues, taking control of the situation. He knows from experience that it’s easier to get what he wants if he acts like it’s already his. He can’t resist the temptation to touch Yuuri. He lifts his shirt a few inches, sliding his hand against silky skin until he meets a slight softness. He pinches it between his fingers, trying not to laugh when Yuuri jumps.

He can tell from the way Yuuri’s eyes devour him that the foregoing a shirt was a good move. Now he just needs to get them alone, preferably near a bed. Yuuri offers the excuse he needs. He jumps at it.

Yuuri lingers near the head of the bed, giving the pillows the fluffing of their lives. Victor slips behind him, taking the pillow from his fingers and dropping it onto the duvet. Yuuri freezes.

Victor leans forward, allowing his lips to brush his ear. “If we’re going to be skating together, you’re going to have to stop going so stiff every time I touch you.”

Yuuri takes in a shuddering breath. “Sorry, I’m not used to anyone but Yuuko, uh, um.”

“No problem. You’ll just have to get used to me now.” Victor hops onto the bed and reclines in what he hopes is a seductive pose. Yuuri stares at him, his face going beet red again. Victor grits his teeth in frustration, but doesn’t let his smile fade. What more of an invitation does Yuuri need? This is getting ridiculous.

Fine. He’ll take matters into his own hands. He rises, going up on to his knees. He caresses Yuuri’s jaw. It’s practically vibrating with tension under his palm. He slides his fingers to Yuuri’s chin, tacky with sweat from today’s workout. His thumb caresses Yuuri’s lower lip. His mouth goes soft under his touch. Victor wonders if he’ll open his mouth for him if he asks. His other arm goes to the back of Yuuri’s head to guide him closer, yes that’s it. Yuuri’s body is practically begging for it. He leans in, feels the faintest butterfly-wing touch of lips against his. He leans forward, chasing it—and almost falls off the bed.

 _What the hell?_ Yuuri is across the room, his back against the wall, his face so red, it’s a miracle it doesn’t combust. What is wrong with him? 

“Why are you running away?” he asks, hating the plaintive note in his voice.

Yuuri laughs. The sound dies away into jagged silence. “Uh, sorry, uh. I thought I heard Phichit calling for me. Your bed is ready now.”

He looks everywhere around the room but at Victor. “Would you like to borrow a shirt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Yuuri hesitates, as if on the verge of saying more, but then walks from the room, closing the door behind him.

Victor tells himself it’s the jet lag that is making his limbs feel like they have lead weights attached to them. He’s not disappointed. There must be some sort of complication. Yuuri’s probably got a boyfriend or a girlfriend. After all, he’s attractive, talented, fun. People like him don’t stay single for long.

Victor has always been good at knowing what people want. At giving people what they want. His coach had wanted a champion, so he became a champion. Chris had wanted a lover, so Victor became his lover for a time. The press and his fans wanted a smiling, happy idol, so he learned to smile, even when his heart was in pieces.

He’d thought he’d understood what Yuuri wanted. He’s good at playing the attentive lover. It’s a role Chris had taught him well. There’s no doubt that Yuuri’s attracted to him. The hunger in his eyes had been almost palpable, but tonight he’d shied away from his touch like a skittish horse. Did it have something to do with Yuuko? Is Yuuri in love with her?

And if Yuuri doesn’t want him as a lover, what _does_ he want? A skating partner and nothing else? Victor could do that, he supposes. Skating with Yuuri should be interesting. As long as he can compete, he doesn’t need anything else.

He lies down in the darkness and closes his eyes. A few tears sneak from beneath his eyelashes. He’s not as good at lying to himself as he used to be. As he drifts off to sleep, he remembers the rest of that night—the night that changed everything for him. 

Yuuri wins the dance-off, forcing even Chris to concede defeat. Chris does so with good grace because for all his other faults he’s never been a sore loser.

After that, it feels natural to take the hand that Yuuri offers, to allow himself to be guided to the dance floor. He lets Yuuri take control, following his lead through a breath-stealing series of spins and dips. For once, he’s not worried about what everyone else thinks. His mind is too full of Yuuri’s body pressed against his, his hands, always in the right place, always anticipating every move, his breath, sweet with champagne and warm against his cheek. He wants to kiss him, but Yuuri sends him off into another spin and the moment is lost. It’s been so long since he felt like this that it takes him a few moments to recognize the emotion. He’s _happy._

He guides Yuuri to an empty table in back of the room. Yuuri leans against him, half-asleep, his fingers entwined with Victor’s. “You really mean it, about being my skating partner?” Yuuri asks.

“If you still want me.”

Yuuri smiles hazily up into his face. Victor’s heart melts. His fingers drift up to touch Victor’s bottom lip. “I want…you,” he whispers, closing his eyes and leaning more heavily against Victor as he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some ice-dance therapy in the form of the Shibutanis' US Nationals FD to Cold Play’s “Fix You” [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AqOemILZBs)


	4. Chapter 4

****Victor****

The sun’s rays are just barely peeking over the horizon when Victor rolls out of bed the next morning. He changes into the clothes he wore yesterday, hoping that the lingering airplane smell is only in his imagination. Phichit is in the kitchen weighing a bowl of green goop on a food scale. The glamorous life of a figure skater.  


“Hi!” Phichit says.  


“Good morning,” Victor replies.  


“You’re welcome to anything in the fridge. Yuuri already left for the rink, but he’s got class this morning so he should be back soon.”  


“He left for the rink?” _without me?_  


Phichit gives him a sidelong glance. “He got a little freaked out when you showed up. I think he’s still convinced that you’re going to sue him or something. You’re not, right?”  


Victor stares at Phichit in horror. “What? No, of course not.”  


“It’s just weird, you showing up out of the blue right after he makes that video.”  


Victor hesitates, an explanation on the tip of his tongue, but if Yuuri hasn’t told Phichit about that night— ”There’s nothing weird about it. I’m in need of a partner and I like the way he skates.”  


Phichit’s brow wrinkles in confusion, but Victor is already headed for the door. His winter clothes are somewhere between here and Russia, but given the choice between freezing and answering any more of Phichit’s questions, he’d rather brave the cold.  


The rink is a short ten-minute walk away, just long enough to make Victor’s fingertips ache. It’s closed at this hour, but someone left the door cracked. Victor sneaks inside.  


Yuuri is alone on the ice, doing balancing exercises. Victor leans his elbows against the divider and watches. Here is the man from the Grand Prix Final banquet. Yuuri’s taller, and it isn’t just the skates. There’s something about his posture, the way he moves. It’s like looking at a completely different person. Even in practice, Yuuri doesn’t just go through the motions. There’s an energy about him that draws the eye.  


Eventually, Yuuri notices him. He shrinks in on himself, reverting back from prince to frog. Victor frowns. After watching every video on youtube that contained the words “Yuuri Katsuki” at least five times, he knows Yuuri has potential. He’s seen flashes of brilliance in competition, and that video of him doing his program, God. Victor had seen it as soulless, another cynical offering for the judges. But Yuuri had transformed it into something transcendent. Last night, Victor had thought it was meant for him, a siren call he couldn’t resist, but maybe it’s something else.  


He waves him over. Yuuri smiles tentatively and skates up to the barrier. He’s still nervous, but there’s a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there last night. “It’s good to see you practicing this early. I like to skate in the mornings too. When do you have ballet practice? I’d like to talk to your instructor. You looked good, but your form tends to fall apart when you’re under pressure. We’ll need to work on that. When is your next practice with your coach? I’d like to talk to him about cross-training. You were always the lifting partner with Yuuko. I don’t want to change that dynamic too much this first year, although with our height difference it will make things tricky.”  


Yuuri grins at him. “You were actually serious last night?”  


“Yes, of course. You know about Chris and I’s split?” It’s still the subject of furious gossip in the figure skating world.  


“Yeah, you didn’t even finish the season. Were you injured? Are you okay now?”  


“I wasn’t injured.”  


“Oh, is Christophe okay?”  


“He wasn’t injured either.”  


Victor can feel the wheels turning in Yuuri’s mind. He decides to cut off that train of thought.  


“Chris and I didn’t have a falling out or anything like that. I just needed a change.”  


“So you decided to show up at my apartment with no warning?”  


“I would have called ahead, but I didn’t have your number.”  


Yuuri laughs at that and bends down to put on his skate guards.  


Victor trails behind him to the changing rooms, extracting Celestino’s number along with the address of Yuuri’s ballet instructor, and the name of the studio where Yuuri practices ballroom dancing. He is mostly successful at restraining himself from sneaking peeks at Yuuri while he changes.  


Victor quickly learns to keep to the topic on skating. When he tries to ask about Yuuri’s relationship with Yuuko, the hunch returns, and he goes monosyllabic.  


“Were you lovers? Is that why you skated my program for her?” Victor asks. He almost manages to hide his jealousy.  


“No.”  


“Really?”  


“It’s not like that. I’ve known her since I was a kid. Besides, she’s married.”  


“Then why did you skate like that?”  


“It wasn’t just for her. It was for me too. I thought my career was ending. When we were first starting, we would try to mimic your and Christophe’s programs. It seemed fitting to end things the way we began.”  


Suddenly, Victor feels the weight of all his twenty-seven years. Has it really been a decade since he and Chris moved into seniors?  


They part ways at Yuuri’s apartment. Yuuri has to leave for class as soon as he’s done showering. Not long after, the airline calls to let Victor know that his luggage is on the way. 

****

Phichit stares as the van driver unloads the last box.  


“Wow, did you pack up your whole apartment?” he asks.  


“Oh, no. These are mostly just clothes and books. I only brought what I thought I would need right away. I’m shipping everything else freight. It should arrive in about a month.”  


They borrow a dolly cart from a neighbor and move everything inside. After that, Victor spends the afternoon unpacking while Phichit goes to the gym.  


Victor tries not to bounce to the door like an over-excited puppy when he hears Yuuri come in.  


Yuuri sags under the weight of his backpack and he’s got dark smudges under his eyes, but Victor likes to think that his spine straightens a bit when he sees him.  


“Hard day?”  


“Yeah, my marketing analytics professor is really tough, and he likes to cold call at the start of class, so you always have to be prepared.”  


Victor frowns. “Cold call?”  


“I’m sure you had something similar at your school. The professor asks random students on the roster questions about the reading and assignments. If you’re not in class or you get the question wrong, you get points deducted from your participation grade.”  


Victor scratches his head, for the first time feeling a bit of regret at his own lack of a conventional education. Chris had always said shared experiences were important in relationships, usually when he was trying to persuade Victor to do some insane thing. He and Yuuri come from different countries, have different backgrounds. Is ice dancing enough to keep them together through the kind of serious relationship he wants with Yuuri?  


“I didn’t go to university, so I’m not familiar with the term,” he says.  


Yuuri frowns, “But surely your teachers did it in secondary school?”  


“I didn’t go to secondary school either.”  


“What? Do you not have a diploma?”  


“My skating career took off when I was 13. Regular school took too much time away from training so I was given tutors until I was old enough to take the equivalency test.”  


Yuuri deposits his backpack on a chair and heads to the kitchen. “Wow, it must have been really cool to train as much as you wanted, but weren’t you worried about having a backup plan, you know, in case you got injured or something?”  


“I never really thought about what I’d do if I stopped skating. I guess it’s a good thing I’m so good at it.”  


Yuuri gives him a half-smile. “I guess the rumors that you were thinking of retiring weren’t true.”  


Victor leans against the kitchen counter and watches Yuuri pull a bag of spinach out of the fridge.  


“I was going to retire, but then I saw that video of you skating Chris and my program, and I changed my mind.”  


The bag of spinach lands on the floor with a smack.  


“This can’t be real,” Yuuri says a bit helplessly, “things like this don’t happen in real life. I must be dreaming or in a coma or dead.”  


Victor bends over and picks up the bag of spinach, capturing one of Yuuri’s hands in his instead of giving it back. “You’re awake. This is real.”  


“But why do you want to skate with me? I’m just a dime-a-dozen ice dancer. Christophe—”  


Victor tugs him closer until they are only inches apart. “Chris and I are both better off apart.”  


“But you’ve been winning together for so long.”  


“And now I’ll be winning with you. Don’t worry about Chris, he’s already moved on.”  


Yuuri presses his lips together. Clearly, there’s more he wants to say. Victor lifts the hand he’s holding and sends Yuuri into a quick spin to forestall the next question.  


He doesn’t want to talk about Chris. The last time they had spoken, things had been…complicated. Chris had been vacillating between anger at Victor for sinking both of their careers, and denial that Victor was really leaving. There had been a scene. Victor _hated_ scenes. He had almost backed down, but the desperate part of himself refused to give in. He felt like a wild animal in a trap, gnawing off his own leg to save his life. Any kind of pain, any kind of damage, even to those around him is better than this stagnation.  


Yuuri tugs his hand out of Victor’s, and crosses his arms across his chest.  


“You haven’t answered my question. “Why me? Why now?”  


Wow, Yuuri is really obstinate. For some reason his imaginings have never included how cute Yuuri looks when he’s interrogating someone.  


Victor thinks about bringing up their agreement on the night of the GPF banquet, but he doesn’t want Yuuri to think that he feels obliged to be here. Better not to mention it.  


“I came because of your youtube video. I hated that free dance. It was a cynical piece crafted to please the judges. It had no soul. You made it come alive. I want to skate with you so I can learn your secret, and maybe find my passion again—or I don’t know, just feel something, anything at all.”  


Damn, he hadn’t meant to say so much. Victor offers a hollow laugh. “Sorry, I let my mouth run away from me again. Now, what’s for—oof!”  


Yuuri crosses the tiny space between them and hugs him, hard. After a slight hesitation, Victor’s arms come up around him. This feels nice. Unexpected tears prick the corners of his eyes. No, he is not going to cry over something as simple as a hug. He swallows and takes a few deep breaths until he has his emotions under control.  


Yuuri pulls away first, stepping around Victor and dumping the spinach into a bowl as if nothing had happened.  


Victor goes to the fridge and opens the door, allowing the air to cool his hot cheeks. “What kind of dressing do you like?” he asks, pleasantly surprised by how steady his voice is.  


If Yuuri doesn’t want to talk about what just happened that’s fine with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnFUP3XVVYY) Chock and Bates’ FD to Concerto No. 2 by Sergei Rachmaninoff from the 2016 US Nationals. Chock and Bates are one of my favorite ice dance teams. They’ll be competing at US Nationals next weekend. GOOD LUCK!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder for this chapter: I know literally nothing about skating. I apologize in advance for all the things in this chapter that are incorrect.

****Victor****

They meet with Yuuri’s coach first thing the next morning. Victor feels strange about what happened yesterday. He hadn’t planned on revealing quite so much about himself. 

In any case, it doesn’t matter. With any luck Yuuri will forget all about it. Just to make sure though, he launches into a cheerful stream of conversation as soon as they are out the door.  


“So, how do you know Phichit?” he asks.  


“He trains under Celestino’s twin sister. He arrived here at about the same time Yuuko and I did, so it made sense to room together.”  


“He must be really good if Bella-stino’s taken him on,” he says employing the nickname everyone uses to tell the two Celestinos apart.  


“He is. He might even have a shot at medaling at Worlds this year.”  


Once they arrive, Celestino glances back and forth between them, more bemused than anything else, and begins to talk programs. After realizing that Yuuri was perfectly willing to spring their new partnership on him without warning, Victor had texted Celestino last night. He hadn’t gotten a response, not surprising since Celestino doesn’t have his number. Still, he’s happy to see that Celestino took him seriously enough to do his homework before their meeting.  


Victor dives into the conversation. He has his own ideas for this year’s programs. He’s discovered via subterfuge—or in this case asking Phichit, that Yuuri doesn’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. He’s not giving up on his dance of seduction. He’s just going to have to employ a subtler strategy than he had anticipated.  


“I think we should do at least one romantic program this year. I’ve been going over old videos of Yuuri’s performances and he’s never done one yet, so it will be unexpected.  


Yuuri blushes. “I’m not—are you sure that’s a good idea?”  


Victor remembers the heat in Yuuri’s eyes when they’d danced. What’s with all this false modesty? Yuuri could do sexy in his sleep. He already practically had.  


“Yuuri, stop selling yourself short. This will be easy for you.”  


Yuuri meets his eyes and gives a small nod. “Okay, I’m in. Do you have any ideas for songs?”  


Something warm bubbles up inside Victor’s chest. “Well, for the short program, I have a couple that I think might work.”  


Celestino’s eyes flick back and forth between them. “Yuuri, are you sure? It’s just that I know your feelings on doing this kind of thing in the past.”  


Yuuri’s face takes on a determined set. “If Victor thinks doing a romantic program will help us win, I’ll do it.”  


“Okay, then. Victor show me what you’ve got. Once we’re done talking music, we’ll need to go over training schedules.”  
Victor grins and queues up the music to On Love: Eros. If skating to this doesn’t make Yuuri fall for him, nothing will.

****Yuuri****

It turns out that the scientists were lying when they said that the human body could only sustain a high level of panic for only a limited period of time. Victor Nikiforov has been staying at Yuuri’s apartment for three days, and Yuuri still jumps at the sound of his voice.  


It’s low and resonant. Yuuri would say that it’s pitched for seduction, but that’s how Victor talks to everyone.  


What he doesn’t expect is just how freaking nice Victor is. He always has something positive to say to everyone, even when they’re stumbling home from the gym in the icy dark at the end of a long day of training. The only time Yuuri hears a negative word from him is when they talk about skating. But even then he delivers the most brutal critique in a cheerful tone, followed up by such confident assurances that _of course_ Yuuri will be skating to his insane standards soon that Yuuri finds himself believing him.  


This morning is the first time they will skate together. Celestino won’t be there for the first few practices. Yuuri and Victor are experienced skaters, and for the first few sessions they’ll be sticking to basic moves as they get to know each other’s bodies. They don’t need Celestino’s help for that.  


Yuuri tries to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He brushes his teeth twice and washes his hands with soap and hot water, a trick his mother had once told him got rid of sweaty palms. He’s just nervous about skating with his idol. Who wouldn’t be? It has nothing to with the way the faintest trace of his scent on Yuuri’s pillow sends pleasant shivers down his spine.  


He brushes his teeth a third time and rinses with mouthwash for good measure. Time to head to the rink.  


Once they are on the ice, Victor wastes no time, skating a quick circle around Yuuri before taking his hand. Yuuri hisses in an indrawn breath as a feeling like electricity sends gooseflesh up his arm. His hand folds into Victor’s like it’s an old friend, like they’ve done this before.  


Victor’s face swims into his field of vision as he flips around to skate backwards in front of him, “Wake up, Yuuri. No going off into dreamland.”  


Yuuri forces his mind away from their joined hands and focuses on his skating. He brings himself in closer to Victor, wrapping his free arm around his back in a closed hold. It should feel awkward. He’s not used to being the short one, but it feels natural to pull Victor closer. Instinct takes over, and he leans into Victor’s space. Victor’s spine arches back into the approved posture, his hand coming up to rest on Yuuri’s collarbone. Yuuri tightens his hand on Victor’s shoulder blade, in response, Victor pushes more firmly against his collarbone, trusting Yuuri to keep him upright as he sends his spine into a slightly more exaggerated posture.  


Yuuri grins. He doesn’t need a mirror to know that they look good. Victor’s body hums with just the perfect amount of tension. This push and pull is what he loves about ice dancing. He checks over Victor’s shoulder to make sure the ice ahead is clear. This is the one place where Victor has no choice, but to follow where he leads.  


They stick to the basics. Yuuri is still getting used to the logistics of skating with another man. Nothing is where it’s supposed to be. Yuuri curls an arm around where Yuuko’s waist would be, but finds he’s cupping Victor’s ass instead. Victor cocks an eyebrow at him and flexes under his hand. Yuuri laughs, but focuses on getting it right the next time.  


He’s also not used to the way Victor skates. He’s graceful, of course, but there’s power underneath it. They cycle through a few different holds, by the end skating so close together that they’re only inches from catching each other’s blades. Yuuri tells himself that his heart is racing from exertion, not the warmth of Victor’s arm around his waist as they glide over the ice in Killian position. Victor releases his hand and tightens his hold around his waist, lifting him off the ground for a fraction of a second and doing a quick half-turn. Yuuri lets him, anchoring the hand at his waist with his own before taking back the lead.  


“Celestino would kill us if he knew we were doing lifts without him.”  


They move into open foxtrot position.  


“Are you going to tell on me?” Victor asks, his voice dropping a deeper register, the one that gives Yuuri ideas that he really shouldn’t be having about his skating partner.  


Yuuri glances at him. This man needs to be taught a lesson. He drops his hold on Victor and skates a quick circle around him. Victor stares at him, his smile falling and a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.  


“Yuuri, what are you doing?” he asks, switching directions and skating backwards as Yuuri barrels right at him. Without slowing, Yuuri bends over and scoops him up in a fireman’s carry, taking off across the ice.  


He laughs at Victor’s squeak of surprise.  


“Yuuri, seriously, what are you doing?” he asks.  


“You got to lift me, now I get to lift you.”  


“I’m not sure how the ISU judges would score this one.”  


Yuuri slows down to a safer speed and hardens his grip on the backs of Victor’s thighs. Victor straightens his back so he’s upright, and Yuuri relaxes his grip enough to allow him to slide down his body. Rather than touch down, however, Victor wraps his legs around Yuuri’s waist.  


Eek. Whatever this had started out as, it’s backfiring quickly.  


“I think we should do something like this in the short dance,” Victor says, releasing his arms from Yuuri’s neck and arching into full layback position.  


Yuuri really wishes he wouldn’t do that. The sight of Victor with his back arched and _that_ expression on his face, combined with the more direct stimulus of Victor’s ass in the worst possible area is causing a potentially embarrassing situation to, er pop up. Besides, his arms are starting to get tired. He focuses on the burn in his forearms and shoulders to keep his mind off the other thing. After a small eternity, he brings them to a halt at the barrier and sets Victor down before skating away.  


“Hey, where’re you going?” Victor asks.  


Yuuri flips around, “I don’t know, why don’t you catch me?”  


Victor hops down and speeds after him. Yuuri turns back around and takes off across the ice. What has gotten into him? He’s not usually the kind of person that breaks rules and acts like a kid at the playground. There must be something about Victor that brings it out in him. He hopes it’s a good thing.  


After Victor catches him, he shows Yuuri a few conditioning exercises that make his quads scream, and they skate individually for another hour before packing it in.  


Yuuri doesn’t have class today, so he has time for a quick nap before cross-training at the gym. He hates lifting weights. It’s the only part of training that he finds boring. It’ll be nice to go with someone else. He and Phichit try to go together as often as they can, but this semester their schedules make it almost impossible.  


He pulls off a skate, wincing as his big toe bumps against the hard leather on its way out. He sighs. He’d had big hopes for that toenail. He doesn’t even need to look at it to know that it’s going to fall off. Gingerly, he slips his feet into his sneakers, and glances at Victor.  


Victor’s gaze slides up Yuuri’s body. Heat fizzes under his skin. This is so embarrassing. Of all the people to be wildly attracted to, he would make the worst possible choice.  


“Is your foot injured?” Victor asks.  


Yuuri makes a face. “Just a blood blister under the toenail. It’ll feel better once I lance it.”  


Victor nods.  


The walk home passes quickly. They argue amiably about what lifts they want to try in their next coaching session with Celestino. Yuuri doesn’t even notice until they arrive at the door that at some point he and Victor had started holding hands. He’d been like this with Yuuko too. After hours of practice, he’d gotten to the point where he hadn’t even noticed all the touches they exchanged ever the day. Will he ever be like that with Victor?  


If he touches Victor enough times, will the attraction he feels fade away?  


“Is it very different, skating with a man?” Victor’s lips brush the shell of Yuuri’s ear.  


Yuuri fumbles the lock. “A little bit, yes. You’re taller than me, and your center of gravity is in a different place from Yuuko’s.”  


“My ass is in a different place too. Or were all those little incidents intentional?” Victor’s voice slips into that cursed deeper register.  


Yuuri shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m working on it.”  


“Yes, I noticed. You were much better by the end. Though I must confess to a little disappointment. I was hoping it was a clumsy attempt at flirtation.” Victor’s voice bounces with playful energy, as it always does when he’s joking. Or trying to soften a critique  


Yuuri’s face turns bright pink. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”  


He gets the door unlocked and stumbles inside. Victor grabs his shoulder and spins him around. Yuuri looks up into his face, wondering what he did to make him angry.  


Victors eyes soften and his hand slides up to cup Yuuri’s cheek. “Yuuri,” he whispers, “you have nothing to thank me for. I’m not doing you a favor here. I chose you because you have potential. I wouldn’t partner with anyone else.” Victor’s eyes drift down to his mouth. Yuuri’s breath catches. Is Victor going to kiss him?  


“Why did you leave the door open? It’s freezing in here,” Phichit calls from the kitchen.  


Yuuri jumps like a startled cat, dislodging Victor’s hand.  


“Sorry, I got distracted,” he replies, “Victor would you like to have the first shower?”  


Victor grins ruefully. “Thanks, that’s much appreciated. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Virtue and Moir’s FD from the 2016 GPF Final. I really really like this program in spite of feeling lukewarm about V/M in general.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SFV3Ot-iUM)


	6. Chapter 6

****Victor****

Victor is starting to wonder if he’ll ever drag Yuuri out of his shell. After their first skate together a few days ago, things have gotten easier. Now Victor just feels like he’s trying to shove a boulder up a mountain, rather than moving the entire mountain. At least Yuuri finally realizes that Victor is serious.  


They begin practicing more advanced moves under Celestino’s watchful eye. They start out off the ice using a harness to prevent falls. It doesn’t take long for Victor to realize that Yuuri has the strength and stamina to handle just about any lift. He also really hates not being in control, which is not the best trait to have in a lifted partner. Victor sympathizes, but on days like today, it doesn’t stop him from feeling just slightly annoyed.  


Celestino has them try a straight line lift with Yuuri in layback position while Victor balances on one foot, holding his thighs against his torso. It’s not the easiest starting place, but with Yuuri’s level of experience, he shouldn’t be having as much trouble as he he is.  


“Stop standing on my leg. You can trust me not to drop you,” Victor says.  


“I’m trying,” Yuuri grits out.  


“Try harder. You trusted me not to kick you in your face earlier, and I didn’t.”  


Yuuri chokes out a laugh. “Okay. I’ll try again.”  


He leans back, arching his spine at an impossible angle. Victor’s arms tighten around his thighs, supporting him where his hamstrings meet his glutes. His arms burn, but the problem isn’t Yuuri’s weight. Chris is heavier and Victor had less trouble with him.  


“Lean back more. Push your arms back too. You’re resting too much weight on my arms now.”  


Celestino’s hands adjust Yuuri’s feet, prying them off Victor’s thigh so that they’re dangling free, allowing Victor’s upper body to take all of Yuuri’s weight.  


“Lean further back,” Celestino says, “I know you’re more flexible than that. Don’t make Victor do all the work.”  


Those words trigger something in Yuuri. His hands fly out to just past his shoulders, and his spine arches even further. For a few seconds, they are perfectly balanced, Victor’s core taking most of the weight while his arms act as a fulcrum.  


“Good, Yuuri, good. Memorize what this feels like. Lifts are about leverage, not brute strength. Now, Victor, let him down.”  


Victor relaxes his arms enough to allow Yuuri to slide down his body to the ground.  


“You’re getting better,” Celestino says, “but you need to improve faster. You think it’s hard now, just wait until you’re on the ice. Okay, Victor, it’s your turn. Jump in the harness and show me that curve lift we were talking about earlier. Yuuri, get in crouching position.”  


Now that Yuuri’s in control, he’s much more in his element. His arms under Victor’s chest and thigh are steady, as is the thigh that supports Victor’s abdomen. Victor grabs the heel of his sneaker and pulls. Ha, Yuuri’s not the only bendy skater in the room. Back in his glory days he could achieve full Biellmann position. That was a long time ago. Still, he’s probably more flexible than most male ice dancers.  


Celestino chuckles and shakes his head. “Save the showing off for later, Victor. I don’t want you injuring yourself. Now, Yuuri, feel the way Victor is distributing his weight. When you’re the lifted partner, this is something you always have to be thinking about.”  


They try that lift a few more times, then switch back. This time Yuuri hits the correct balancing point right away. Victor grins. Celestino keeps them at it until Victor’s arms are shaking with exhaustion and his lower back is a giant knot.  


Finally, Celestino removes the harness and passes them a couple of bottles of water. “Have you given any more thought to your free dance?”  


Victor and Chris had always chosen their own music and choreography, though over the past few years, Chris had left everything up to Victor. Celestino also knows quite a bit about choreography. Between the two of them they have nailed down the the short dance. It’s wildly ambitious for a pair in their first year. The music is fast, and the difficulty level is borderline insane. He’s chosen “On Love: Eros” as the song. He choreographed the dance as an endless push and pull between him and Yuuri. First Victor would be the pursuer, and Yuuri the pursued. Then at the climax of the song Yuuri would give in, only to be cast aside. At that point, the tide would shift with Yuuri as the obsessive pursuer until the dance ends in tragedy with Yuuri destroying the object of his affection in a reverse rotational lift that is going to leave the audience gasping with shock—if they can pull it off.  


“Our short program is about obsessive passion. I think for our free dance, we should have something that contrasts, but still fits the overall theme,” Victor says, “What do you think, Yuuri?”  


Yuuri shrugs. “I always let Celestino choose the music and the choreography. I’m fine with whatever you guys pick.”  


Victor frowns. “This program is just as much yours as it is mine. We should come up with something together this time.”  


Yuuri’s face goes red. “Really, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m going to go get changed,” he says, and leaves for the locker room.  


Victor turns to Celestino. “Do you really always choose his music?”  


Celestino nods. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. If my skaters want to choose their own music, I let them. Yuuri did come to me once with an original composition. It was okay, but I didn’t think it was strong enough for him. I asked him if he was sure, and he changed his mind.”  


“What about Yuuko?”  


“Yuuko skated to whatever I gave her. She was good, but she never really had Yuuri’s passion. Without him, I think she would have retired a long time ago.”  


“Wow, I feel sorry for them both. That can’t have been a happy partnership.”  


“It wasn’t, but not in the way you are probably thinking. They cared for each other. They each did the best they could, but it wasn’t enough to make it work. Yuuri has so much potential if he can just find a skater who can bring it out in him.”  


“Do you think I’m that skater?”  


“I don’t know. Maybe. You appeared on a whim. What’s to keep you from disappearing the same way?”  


Victor pinches the bridge of his nose. “If you can’t trust my good intentions, could you please at least trust my desire to win?”  


Celestino sighs. “I want to. I really really want to.”  


If that’s how Celestino feels, there’s not anything Victor can do right now to change his mind. “I’m going to go check on Yuuri.”  
“That’s probably a good idea.”

****

Yuuri is sitting alone in the locker room when Victor arrives. He’s in his bare feet staring at his sneakers with an expression of loathing on his face.  


“Toenail hasn’t come off yet?” Victor asks.  


Yuuri nods. “I tried to soak it off last night, but no luck. All I did was make it loose so now it wiggles every time something touches it. Why can’t I live someplace warm enough to wear sandals?”  


“Because you’re an ice dancer, and not a beach volleyball player.”  


Victor kneels at Yuuri’s feet and picks up a sock. “Hold still,” he says, and gently guides Yuuri’s foot into it, avoiding the toe. He does the same for the shoe. He puts Yuuri’s sock and shoe on the other foot as well.  


He leans forward, running his palms up Yuuri’s thighs. “There you go, problem solved. Now, let’s talk about music for the free program.”  


Yuuri goes tense under his hands. “I’m really fine with whatever you pick. It’s okay.”  


Victor gives him a light squeeze. “Yuuri, it’s your program too. I want you to feel like you own it. Now, have you thought about the theme? I was perhaps thinking about Romeo and Juliet, but maybe that’s too much tragic love. What do you think?”  


Yuuri stares at the ground. For all that he’s not moving, Victor can feel him pulling away. He wants to scream. He’s not going to let himself be shut out yet again.  


“Come now, it can’t be that hard,” he cajoles, “I’m sure there’s some song out there you like. Maybe something you used to listen to with your girlfriend?”  


Yuuri shakes his head violently.  


“Boyfriend?” Victor tries to keep the hopeful note out of his voice.  


Yuuri covers his face with his hands.  


“What? You can’t tell me that you haven’t taken a lover.”  


Yuuri slithers sideways out of his grasp and grabs his satchel. Damn, he’s crossed that cursed invisible line again. He chases after Yuuri into the icy January chill of Detroit, not bothering to change out of his workout clothes.  


“I’m sorry,” he calls, “could you just slow down for a minute?”  


Yuuri slows, but he won’t meet his eyes.  


“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”  


“It’s fine,” Yuuri says in a tone that makes it glaringly obvious that it’s not fine.  


“Yuuri, please. Stop running away from me. Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll do it. I can’t give you what you want if you won’t tell me what it is.” He cringes at his own words. Is this how pathetic he’s become?  


“What do you care? You show up from out of nowhere, nose your way into my life, into my home, into my skating, expecting me to trust you when I don’t even know you. How do I know you’re not going to change your mind and disappear next week?”  


“You have to trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”  


“How? You flew all the way from Russia because you saw a video of me on youtube. Who does that?”  


What the hell? Why is Yuuri yet again ignoring everything that happened at the banquet? Realization hits Victor like a brick to the skull.  


Yuuri doesn’t want him, at least not in the way Victor wants him. That’s why he refuses to talk about the banquet, why he panics every time Victor flirts with him. He has been hinting, in his own inept way that he isn’t interested. And Victor, who hasn’t gotten the brush off in over a decade has been too oblivious to notice.  


His mind races through their early encounters, the long gazes and hot blushes, the shyness. He would have sworn that Yuuri was attracted to him, but maybe he was wrong. Victor had seen the framed photo of himself on Yuuri’s shelf. Yuuri was a fan. Perhaps Yuuri had just just been starstruck, and not attracted to him at all.  


Damn, damn, damn. He’s an idiot. Yuuri’s probably afraid to outright reject him because he needs him as a skating partner, and he’s worried he’ll leave. Victor wants to go bury his head in a snowbank and never come out. What a mess. At least he can set one thing straight.  


“I won’t leave you, no matter what. Not unless you ask me to.”  


“You say that now, but how do you know? What happens when I disappoint you? What happens when the inspiration wears off, when you realize I’m just a mediocre skater who chokes at the first sign of pressure?”  


“You won’t be mediocre for long. You just need the right partner to challenge you, and we’ve got almost a year before we have to compete again. We’ll worry about the rest later. I’m not going anywhere.”  


“Okay.” Yuuri takes a deep breath, as though he’s bracing himself for a blow. “I’m sorry I’ve been putting you off. It’s just that I know I’m going to disappoint you. It’s bad enough when it’s just Yuuko, Celestino, and my family, but with you, it’s even worse because I’ve admired you for so long. Having you here, all the time, every day has been like a dream. I don’t want to lose you. It was bad enough with Yuuko, I don’t want to go through that again.”  


Victor takes Yuuri’s hand in both of his. “I promise I won’t leave you. Besides, I’ve already seen your feet. I can’t imagine anything you do could possibly be worse than that.”  


Yuuri laughs weakly. “Don’t pretend your feet look any better.”  


Victor squeezes his hand and smiles, “So Yuuri, what do you want me to be to you? A father figure?”  


“Ugh, no!”  


“A lover?” Victor winks to let him know he’s joking.  


“Victor!”  


“A colleague?”  


“You don’t have to be anything to me. I want you to be yourself. That’s all.”  


Yuuri would ask the impossible. Not even Victor knows who he is anymore.  


“I’ll do my best then, to be myself for you.”  


“And I’ll do my best not to push you away.”  


Victor wraps him in his arms and holds him close.  


“You’re shivering,” Yuuri says.  


“I ran outside without putting on a coat.”  


“And you smell.”  


“I didn’t change clothes either.”  


Yuuri slides one arm out of his parka. “Come on then, share mine. You’re lucky it’s a short walk.”  


Victor stuffs one arm into the sleeve Yuuri offers and wraps his free arm around his waist.  


Yuuri’s arm, warm from being inside the jacket, curls just below his ribs. They walk home like that, stuck together, hips bumping with every step, not perfectly in sync, but at least moving in the same direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> US Nationals is this weekend!! Woohoo! My main pairs I’ll be cheering for are the Shibutanis and Chock and Bates, though I am also in love with Hubbell and Donohue’s FD program this year. Ngl, I wish everyone could win. I love everyone in this bar! In the US, it will be airing on NBC. The short dance will be on from 6:00-8:00 pm ET on Friday, and the free dance will be from 3:00-6:00 pm ET on Saturday (sharing a slot with pairs skating, which is _fine_ , I guess.)
> 
> Anyway, have [my favorite US free dance program this year ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oxW2u4K0p0)as temptation to turn on the US nationals this weekend.


	7. Chapter 7

Victor’s phone rings at 2:00 a.m.  


He answers without looking at the caller ID. “What is it?”  


“What are you doing in America, and why did I have to find out about it from Yuri fucking Plisetsky?”  


Victor sits up. He’s happy to hear from Chris, even if he is angry. “Chris, how are you?”  


“I’d be doing a lot better if you warned me before going off and doing something insane. Please tell me you’re not chasing after that Katsuki kid.”  


Victor doesn’t say anything.  


“I knew it! Victor, what are you doing?”  


“I _was_ sleeping.”  


“Victor, come on, I’m worried about you.”  


He lets the mask drop for a few moments.  


“I’m going to be skating with Yuuri Katsuki next year.”  


_“What?”_  


“It’s not something I was planning. I really was going to retire this year, but I don’t know. I like the way he skates. I figured why not give it another year?”  


“You couldn’t give it another year with me?”  


“Chris—”  


“It’s fine.”  


Victor can hear that it’s not, but he doesn’t pursue it. There’s nothing he can say to heal that wound.  


“I’m skating with Popovich,” Chris says.  


“He and Anya broke up?”  


“Spectacularly. Poor guy’s a wreck.”  


“Georgi’s really disciplined. He’ll be a good match for you.”  


“I’m making do with second best, and you know it.”  


“Chris, I’m sorry.”  


“I know.”  


The line goes dead. Victor leans back against the pillow and closes his eyes. Why can’t anything ever be easy?

****Yuuri****

Yuuri pads away from Victor’s door as silently as he can. He hadn’t been trying to listen in on Victor’s conversation, but now that he has, he can’t unhear it. The other shoe has finally dropped. He’d known Victor was too good to be true. Now that he knows the catch, he can finally relax. Nothing matters because Victor’s going to be gone in a year anyway.  


Ever since Victor’s arrival, Yuuri has been carefully avoiding thinking about what it means for Chris that Victor is not skating with him. He’s relieved that he’s found another partner, so his next season won’t be a total wash. He probably should feel guilty, but if Victor wasn’t going to be skating with Chris anyway, Yuuri’s going to take full advantage of his time with him.  


He’s got just one year. For ice dancing partners, a year is nothing. It takes at least three or four for a pair to really get to know each other. But on the other hand, he’s skating with Victor Nikiforov, the man who won five gold medals at Worlds. If anyone can turn them into a champion pair in a few short months, it’s Victor.  


He slips into the living room and gets out the foam roller. He’d woken up with a vicious cramp in his groin muscle. He’d tried to massage it out, but it was too stubborn, so he’d decided to get up and roll it out.  


He doesn’t have enough space in his bedroom, so he lays out his yoga mat in the living room, lies down on his stomach and tucks the foam cylinder between his inner thigh and the ground. Sweat pops out on his brow as the knot of muscle meets the hard foam. He rocks his hips, working on the knot.  


The light flicks on. “Yuuri, what are you doing?”  


Victor is all feigned innocence.  


Yuuri grins. To an outsider, it looks like he’s humping the ground, but Victor’s been an athlete long enough to know what he’s really up to. “Don’t get so excited. I got a nasty cramp in my groin. Why are you up?”  


“I was thirsty, so I thought I’d grab a glass of water. Muscle cramp, huh, do you mind if I take a look?”  


Yuuri shakes his head and rolls over onto his back.  


Victor’s hands pause on the drawstring of his pajamas. “May I?” he asks.  


A week ago, Yuuri probably would have melted from embarrassment, but after half a day of having Victor’s junk about an inch from his face as they’d practiced lifts, Yuuri feels like turnabout is fair play.  


“Sure.” Yuuri lifts his hips for Victor to peel them off, glad he’d worn boxers to bed.  


“Where is it?”  


Yuuri rubs his thumb over a hard lump on his inner thigh and lies down on his back.  


Victor’s fingers prod against the knot.  


Yuuri muffles his squeak of pain with his forearm.  


“This it?” Victor stabs at the spot a few times.  


Yuuri nods. Victor attacks the knot with a ferocity that sends tears to his eyes.  


Dimly, he hears a door open and shut.  


“Hey, guys. Could you keep it down? Eep!”  


Yuuri opens his eyes to see Phichit scuttle backwards around the corner.  


Victor turns, but does not ease up the pressure.  


“Hi, Phichit. Sorry, did we wake you up?”  


Phichit creeps back around the corner. “What are you _doing?_ ”  


“Oh, Yuuri got a really bad leg cramp, so I’m just helping him out. I think I’ve about got it.”  


At that, Victor’s thumb burrows into Yuuri’s thigh. He fails to muffle the groan of pain.  


Phichit’s eyebrows fly up. “Um, okay, you two have fun then,” he says, and flees back to his room.  


Victor’s shoulders shake with laughter. Yuuri probably would be laughing too, but at just that moment, the muscle finally releases.  


Yuuri’s body goes limp with relief. “Oh, wow, that feels so much better.”  


Victor’s hand stills. “I’m glad I could help you. That was a bad knot.”  


His palm slides up to his hip. “You’re all sweaty now.”  


“Yeah, sorry.”  


“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”  


“Thank you,” Yuuri says.  


Victor idly rubs his thumb over Yuuri’s hipbone. Yuuri closes his eyes. Now that his muscle cramp is gone he’s beginning to feel an entirely new tension in his lower body. A few minutes ago, he would have tried to suppress it and berated himself for allowing his body to react this way, but now he finds he doesn’t care. He only has Victor for a year. 

He’s not going to waste precious time worrying about the small things.  


“About the free dance,” Yuuri says.  


Victor’s face lights up.  


“I have an original composition put together by one of my friends at school. It’s probably not right for our program, but I still would like for you to hear it.”  


“I’d love to.”  


Victor helps him to his feet and Yuuri puts on his pajama pants.  


They turn off the lights and slip back to Yuuri’s room. Victor crawls under the blankets as though he’s done this a thousand times while Yuuri unplugs his phone from the charger and hands Victor one of the earbuds dangling from the phone.  


He eases under the covers next to him and pulls up the song. He lies on his side, watching Victor’s face for any change in expression. A small furrow forms between Victor’s brows, but otherwise his face remains neutral until the song is over.  


“What do you think?”  


“It’s not a bad choice, but it might be a good idea to explore other possibilities. Do you have any others you might like?”  


Yuuri pulls up another song from his playlist and presses play.  


Victor closes his eyes to listen, a relaxed smile softening his lips.  


“What about this one?” Yuuri asks as the closing notes fade into silence.  


Victor doesn’t respond. Yuuri takes another look at him. Victor’s breathing is slow and regular. He’s fallen asleep. Careful not to wake him, Yuuri plucks out his earbud and replaces his phone on the charger before flicking out the lamp.  


He probably should wake Victor up and send him to his own bed, but it feels so nice to have him warm and close by. He lies down and lets the sound of Victor’s soft breathing carry him off to sleep.

****

Yuuri hears his alarm going off in the distance, chasing away the ragged edges of an erotic dream. He swims back to wakefulness, the alarm getting louder and louder until he reaches out and swipes the screen of his phone.  


Behind him, Victor grunts and buries his head in the back of his neck. Suddenly, Yuuri becomes aware of Victor’s body, pressed against his back. His arm is slung around his middle, holding him close. Yuuri relaxes against him and almost slips back into sleep. It’s a strange reversal of the holds they do in practice. On the ice Yuuri is the one pulling him closer, pushing into Victor’s space. He wonders if Victor feels this safe when Yuuri is holding him.  


Yuuri waits until the last possible moment before getting out of bed. He pulls on his workout clothes, keeping his back to Victor so he won’t see the evidence of a certain biological reaction to his proximity. He’s not embarrassed exactly, he just doesn’t want Victor to get the wrong idea.  


As soon as he’s dressed, he pulls the blankets off of Victor’s sleeping body. After a few days of trial and error, he’s found that cold air gets him out of bed faster than any alarm. Victor rolls over and stretches, pulling his boxers tight against his—  


Yuuri looks away. He isn’t supposed to see that. Besides, Victor is a healthy 27-year-old man. Of course things like this are going to…pop up. It doesn’t mean that it has anything to do with him.  


Victor sits up and scratches his head. “Good morning, Yuuri. Did you sleep well?”  


Yuuri nods, keeping his eyes above Victor’s navel.  


“Good, so did I,” he says with a wink, and heads out the door.  


Phichit meets him in the hallway. His eyes go wide at the sight of Victor leaving Yuuri’s room. From behind Victor’s retreating back, Yuuri gives him a quick shake of the head. Phichit responds with an eyebrow waggle that makes Yuuri want to crawl under the bed and and never come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody watch the US Nationals? So many feelings! So many falls D: (there are almost never any falls in ice dance)!!! Also, CHOCK AND BATES WERE ROBBED!!!!!!! Don't get me wrong, the Shibutanis' program was very good, but C/B were better in my very inexpert opinion.
> 
> Here is a link to the [winning program ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMd3Ire5Pc8)by the Shibutanis. Yes it is excellent and enjoyable to watch.


	8. Chapter 8

****Yuuri****

Yuuri and Phichit meet for lunch at the campus cafeteria. They don’t have much time, only a half-hour between classes, but with Phichit training for Worlds and the whirlwind of Victor’s arrival, Yuuri’s looking forward to some one-on-one time with his best friend.

“So are you and Victor sleeping together yet?” Phichit asks around a mouthful of cucumber salad.

Yuuri can tell from the roundness in Phichit’s eyes that he’s been waiting hours to ask that question. 

“No, we’re just skating partners.” Although considering how this morning’s practice had gone, they might not even be that for much longer. They had begun practicing their short program today. Between the insanity of the technical components, and Yuuri’s complete inability to project anything remotely resembling Eros, it’s not going well.

“Really? Just skating partners?”

“Yes.”

“Because that’s not what it looked like last night. Or this morning.”

“I had a cramp. He was helping me out.”

“That must have been some cramp that he had to work on it all night.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes at him. “It’s not like that. We were trying to pick out music for our free dance and fell asleep.”

“That’s funny, you never did that with Yuuko.”

“Yuuko’s married.”

Phichit’s eyebrows fly up.

Yuuri buries his head in his arms, ignoring Phichit’s laugh.

“I think it’s romantic. Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov, partners both on and off the ice,” he says, his voice taking on the dramatic tones of promo voiceover.

Yuuri groans.

“Anyway, have you heard the latest gossip?”

Yuuri perks up. “What?”

“Yuri Plisetsky might not be skating next season.”

“What?”

“According to Sara, who had it from Mila, he seriously insulted someone high up in the Russian Skating Federation. No one in Russia will touch him with a ten foot pole right now, and if he doesn’t find a new partner soon, he’s going to have to sit next season out.”

“Oh, poor Yuri.” Yuuri wonders if Victor has heard yet. He knows that Victor and Yuri are friends. What if he decides to help Yuri by leaving to skate with him?

Phichit’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “But it gets better. Nobody has seen Yuri in two weeks. Mila texted me because she wondered if he’d followed Victor here. She’s gone by his apartment and tried his grandfather’s house. Nothing, he’s not there.”

A lead weight settles in the pit of his stomach.

“What about his facebook? He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“This is where it gets strange. All his social media has gone dark in the past two days, and before then none of his posts gave any hint of where he really was.”

“You don’t think he’s coming for Victor?” Yuuri asks.

Phichit shrugs. “Who knows?”

Yuuri can’t stand to think about it. He changes the subject and they finish their lunch before parting ways for afternoon classes.

 

****

 

Yuuri lets out a deep sigh of relief as he sets his book bag on the chair. He has an hour to study before he’s due at the ballet studio. Victor is out, doing mysterious Victor things. 

Yuuri’s not exactly sure what he does while he’s in class, but he has noticed that there’s been more food in the fridge lately, and the kitchen situation has been upgraded from dire to tolerable. Victor has also taken it upon himself to sync their calendars and has set up “joint” social media accounts for them. According to Victor, Yuuri’s fans have been over the moon at the sudden deluge of updates.

Phichit is in the kitchen humming to himself as he weighs ingredients into a blender cup. Yuuri absently rubs at his groin muscle. The tightness is gone, but it’s still sore. An ice bath might be a good idea tonight.

The door explodes open so hard that it hits the wall with a thump. Icy winter air blasts into the room. “Victor!” Yuuri scolds and gets to his feet to shut the door, only to be almost knocked over by the blond form barreling into the room.

“Where is he? Where’s Victor?”

Yuuri stares down in horror. His nightmare has become real. “Yuri Plisetsky?”

“What’s it to you, loser?”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for Victor. Where is he?”

Phichit pokes his head from the kitchen. “He’s out, but he should be back soon. Want a smoothie while you wait?”

“No!” Yuri snarls, and flops down onto the sofa.

Yuuri shuts the front door. He wonders if he should make small talk with his guest, but when he glances over, Yuri’s hunched over his phone in a posture that says “bother me if you dare.” He tries to go back to studying, but it’s useless. He texts Victor instead.

 

\--Yuuri: SOS. Yuri Plisetsky is in our living room. He seems to be angry at you for some reason.

\--Victor: He’s always angry. On my way.

 

Ten minutes later, Victor breezes in, a shopping bag in each hand. “Hope you don’t mind, I bought some lamps for the living room. This place is always so dark.”

“Thank you, let me know if you need help setting them up! Did Yuuri tell you about our visitor?” Phichit asks from the kitchen.

Victor sheds his coat, scarf, and mittens before making his way to the sofa. 

“Yuri, what are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Victor,” he says, reaching for Victor’s hand.

Victor takes a step back. “If you’re asking me to help you get back on Yakov’s good side—”

“No, it’s not that. I need—” he takes a deep breath.

The bottom falls out of Yuuri’s stomach. He knows what Yuri is going to ask for. Victor’s face is inscrutable. Yuuri wants to growl. He’s so tired of this, of waiting for something to go wrong. He wishes Victor would just put him out of his misery.

“I need you to choreograph my programs this year,” Yuri continues in a rush, “Yakov’s washed his hands of me, and Beka’s coach’s idea of a good program is to have us skating in pretty circles. I need something that will win.” 

Victor’s face lights up. “Oh, you finally got hold of Altin! How do you like him?”

Yuri’s scowl deepens. “He’s fine. Now will you help me or not?”

“I’ll need to see the two of you skate together. Is he in town?”

“He’s in Toronto, but I could probably get him to ride down tomorrow.”

“Perfect. Yuuri and Phichit, would you like to help out? I’ll probably need at least one person filming. It’ll be fun.”

Phichit bounces into the room clutching a tumbler filled with a greenish brown concoction. “I should have some time tomorrow morning. I haven’t seen Beka since I left Juniors. How is he?”

“Healthy,” Yuri replies.

Phichit gives Yuri a bigger smile than the response merits, and ropes him into posing for a selfie.

“Where am I going to sleep?” Yuri asks.

Yuuri and Phichit exchange glances. “We could put him on a cot in Victor’s closet. It should be big enough. It’s the only place with any privacy.”

Yuuri hates this idea. He still doesn’t trust Yuri not to pull some sneaky move to persuade Victor to return to Russia. He squelches that irrational voice. As a solution, it makes the most sense. Besides, if Yuri is uncomfortable, maybe he’ll leave faster.

“Sounds great. I’ll pull out the cot,” Yuuri says.

“I need food too. I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Yuri announces.

“Want half of my smoothie?” Phichit asks.

“I asked for food.”

Victor pats Yuri on the head. His face goes violet with rage. “I’ll fix you something, little Yura. Why don’t you go text Altin?”

“I’m not little,” Yuri objects, but his voice slides up an octave, and cracks. Suddenly, Yuuri is much less jealous. He remembers the uncertainty of being that age, his body changing too fast for his training to keep up. His joints had been in constant pain. His center of balance shifted as he grew taller. Much of his early flexibility had evaporated. On the plus side, he had grown strong enough to tackle more technically difficult moves, but it had taken him two years to regain the ground he had lost. It must be even harder for Yuri. He’s spent his entire career as a lifted partner. If he becomes too tall, he’ll have to becoming a lifting partner or leave the sport. Yuuri is peripherally aware of Yuri and Mila’s split. Mixed gender pairs with female lifting partners are very rare at the senior level. Most pairings either find other partners or switch roles once they reach seniors. If Mila didn’t want to switch roles, it explains their split. Their relationship had probably always had an expiration date. Still, it doesn’t change the fact Yuri is probably feeling a bit lost right now.

Besides, if Victor likes him, he can’t be too bad. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The European Championships were this weekend. I did not get a chance to see the full broadcast. I’ll watch all the videos on youtube at some point. I am happy that Papadakis and Cizeron won :D. They are my favorite ice dance pair. I can watch them skate for hours. I watched their program (so happy to see how it’s evolved since the GPF!), but nobody else’s yet.
> 
> In honor of Yuri’s appearance, I’m going to break with tradition and not link to an ice dance this time. [Here,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwO542dGDH4) have Stephane Lambiel dressed like a cat in a red velour body stocking skating to Miau Meow when he was a teenager. Yes, this is a thing that really happened. I could totally see Yuri doing something like this if Otabek and Victor weren’t there to pull him back from the brink.
> 
> [And for contrast,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MVF0aL7bq4) have Lambiel skating to Please Don’t Stop the Music in 2011.  
> Hey, if adorkable teenage Lambiel can grow up to be sexy skating god, anything is possible!


	9. Chapter 9

****Yuuri****

Yuuri’s charitable mood doesn’t last for long. The next morning, Yuri joins them for practice. Yuuri’s not exactly sure what his purpose for being there is since he seems to spend most of his time skating around the edge of the rink yelling insults. He liked him better when he was rudely ignoring everyone in favor of texting on his cell phone.

“Your Eros is shit,” Yuri says.

Yuuri doesn’t argue. It is shit. He’s not sexy. He’s not the kind of guy that would inspire obsessive love, and his skating reflects that.

“Yuri’s right. Maybe we should rethink the short program,” he says to Victor.

Victor narrows his eyes at him. For the first time, Yuuri can see a hint of frustration. “The Yuuri Katsuki I know wouldn’t give up. I made this program to showcase your talents. You have Eros within you. You just need to find a way to tap into it. Now, lets work on our twizzles. We need to do them faster if we’re going to be able to keep up with the music.”

Yuuri nods, and starts over again.

 

****

 

Otabek Altin arrives at the rink at around mid-morning. On a motorcycle. He’s wearing black leathers and heavy black boots that lace up halfway up his shins. Yuuri is fairly certain that other than Victor, Otabek might be the coolest person he’s ever met.

Altin doesn’t waste time with small talk, rumbling out a terse “thanks” to Victor, and hasty introductions to everyone else before heading to the locker room to change.

Victor sends Yuuri and Phichit onto the ice with their camera phones so they can capture the pair from different angles. While he’s waiting for Otabek and Yuri to go through a final warmup, Yuuri turns the camera on Victor, who is resting his head on the edge of the rink.

He puts on a cheesy impression of his favorite sports announcer and says to himself in Japanese, “Hi, Katsuki Yuuri, here, and over there is my very cool and sexy skating partner, Victor Nikiforov.” He turns the camera on Phichit. “And here is the best friend and roommate anyone could ask for.” He points the camera at Yuri and Otabek, “And here are our friends who we’re helping today.” 

The rest of the morning passes quickly. Filming Yuri and Otabek is fun. It’s nice to see Victor torturing someone else for a change. Otabek is interesting. He moves differently from most skaters. He doesn’t have the polish or the flexibility of most ice dancers, but there’s a sincerity and power to way he skates that makes him a joy to watch. Yuri is a good match for him, his delicacy contrasting with Otabek’s forcefulness. Yuri’s performance skills need some work, but that’s not unusual for young skaters.

After a couple of hours, Otabek and Yuri are making mistakes from fatigue. Yuuri sends the video he took to Victor and Phichit and heads for the edge of the rink. 

After lunch, he, Victor, and Phichit decamp for the gym while Otabek takes Yuri site-seeing on his bike. Today is his toughest training day of the week, with skating, strength training, cardio, and a ballroom dance lesson. He’s not even halfway through and he already feels tired.

 

****

 

Yuuri has a love-hate relationship with ice baths. He hates the way the cold water makes his skin ache and the way it makes him feel cold for hours afterward, but he loves the way his body feels the next day, fresh and new, the week’s soreness and strains temporarily banished. 

Victor intercepts him on the way to the bathroom with a bag of ice. “Ooh, ice bath. Good idea. Let me get a towel.”

Yuuri contemplates the effect the cold is going to have on certain parts of his anatomy. He’s gotten used to Victor’s complete lack of personal boundaries, but there are limits to what a man can endure. He sighs at Victor’s retreating back and makes a detour to his room for a pair of swim trunks.

Victor is already sitting naked in a tub half-filled with cold water when Yuuri arrives. His eyebrows fly up at the sight of Yuuri, but he continues playing with his phone without a word. Yuuri hops in, dumps in the bag of ice, and sets the timer on his phone for 20 minutes.

The first five minutes are the worst. He bites his forearm to keep the hiss of pain in. Victor takes his arm by the wrist and tucks it in close to Yuuri’s torso.

“Why are you always biting yourself?” Victor asks.

“Old habit,” Yuuris says, “it helps distract me from pain.”

“Oh.”

A few minutes pass. 

“Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“Could you look at our joint Instagram? I uploaded a video there today. It’s gotten more likes and comments than anything I’ve posted so far, but I can’t read them because they’re all in Japanese.”

Yuuri takes Victor’s phone and presses play on the video. It’s the shot of Victor from across the rink, and Yuuri saying in Japanese, “Hi, Katsuki Yuuri, here, and over there is my very cool and sexy skating partner, Victor Nikiforov,” before panning to a shot of Phichit, Otabek and Yuri. His face goes hot.

He can barely bring himself to read the comments. They actually aren’t that bad. Most of them seem to be excited about the fact that Yuuri is finally posting a video, and about how bad, yet somehow cute Yuuri’s impression is.

He passes the phone back. “They’re just excited that we’re skating together.”

“Oh, good.”

Without thinking, Yuuri leans back against Victor’s body. He starts to jerk himself upright as he remembers that Victor is very naked, and they are in a bathtub together. Victor keeps one arm around him in a light hold.

“It’s okay to make yourself comfortable,” he says.

Yuuri sighs with relief and leans back again. This is not what he’d imagined when he’d thought about bathing with Victor. This is not Eros. This is like cuddling with a fish in a frozen pond.

He jumps out of the water as soon as the timer goes off and towels himself off as the shivers set in.

Yuuri looks up at Victor. His teeth are chattering. Yuuri doesn’t even think about it. As soon as they’re done drying off, he takes him by the hand and guides him to his room. His swim trunks hit his bedroom floor with a splat. He pulls a pair of boxers from his dresser drawer and slips them on before towing Victor under the covers with him.

“Um, I’m still naked,” Victor says.

“I don’t care if you don’t,” Yuuri replies.

Victor brightens at this and pulls Yuuri close. He’s tired from the hard day. It had been all he could do to keep his eyes open during ballroom practice. As has been his habit lately, he lets himself go boneless against Victor’s body.

“I’ve been thinking about the free program,” Yuuri says.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, while I was watching Yuuri and Otabek. I want to talk to the person who composed my original piece, and see if she’d be willing to try again. I don’t think the piece is bad. It’s just not finished yet.”

Victor pulls him close and buries his head in the side of Yuuri’s neck. “I think that’s a good idea.”

They drift off to sleep.

The glow of Victor’s phone wakes Yuuri from a light doze. He opens his eyes to see Victor beaming at the screen.

“What is it?”

Victor lays his phone on the bed and strokes one hand up Yuuri’s arm. Gooseflesh rises in its wake. Victor trails his fingertips across Yuuri’s collarbone.

“One of your fans translated your video into English. You think I’m sexy,” he says.

“Um,”

Victor’s thumb slides up his chin to caress his bottom lip. Yuuri’s mouth parts on an indrawn gasp. The blood rushes from his face to an even more inconvenient location. He closes his eyes. It would be easy, so easy, to touch his tongue against Victor’s thumb, to press his body full against him, show him what he wants. But, it would also be incredibly embarrassing if he is misreading the signals, if Victor is just flirting with him again. Which, to be honest, he probably is.

Yuuri opens his eyes. Victor is studying his face intently, as though searching for something. Suddenly, his expression goes shuttered and the mask is back in place.

“Good! Study me, maybe you’ll find inspiration for your Eros,” Victor says with brittle cheer before rolling out of bed and returning down the hall to his own room.

Yuri’s “Ew, sick!” no doubt at the sight of towel-clad Victor echoes across the apartment.

“This isn’t a locker room, put on some clothes!”

Yuuri plunges his face into his pillow to muffle a frustrated groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Yuri and Otabek, have Chock and Bates skating to [“Bad to the Bone.” ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEWMx3pg4mc)I could totally see those two skating this program. It’s one of my absolute favorites this year. I love the way Chock commits so hard to the performance.


	10. Chapter 10

****Yuuri****

When morning arrives the apartment is miraculously empty. Victor’s social media feed shows that he is at the rink with Otabek and Yuri. Phichit has class, which means that Yuuri has the place to himself for a few hours. He brings his laptop out to the kitchen table and turns the speakers all the way up before dashing off an email to Aisha, the woman who had composed his original piece. She’s excited to take another crack at it, and promises to have something ready in a week or so.

Yuuri makes himself a leisurely breakfast before settling down to study.

****

Since it’s his rest day, it’s Yuuri’s turn to make supper. He likes to cook, but it always makes him homesick for the big family dinners at the onsen. In honor of his visitors, he decides to make what he mentally refers to as Not Katsudon, a low-calorie, pale imitation of his mother’s signature dish. He sighs. What he wouldn’t give for his mother’s katsudon right now.

“You okay?”

Yuuri turns to see Phichit in the entrance of the kitchen.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about my mom. I would kill for a bowl of her katsudon right now.”

Phichit groans. “Don’t make me homesick. It’s been over two years since I’ve had my sister’s bu pad pong kari. I miss fresh crab so bad. Why can’t my coach live near the ocean?”

Yuuri makes a sympathetic noise of longing.

Yuri peers into the kitchen. “What are you two going on about? Why are you making sex noises?”

“We’re talking about the foods we miss from back home.”

“Oh,” Yuri scowls.

Otabek materializes behind Yuri’s shoulder. “My grandmother made the best buarsak. She’d fry it in mutton fat. It was so good.” 

“My grandpa’s piroshkis are better,” Yuri retorts.

Otabek cocks an eyebrow.

“I’m sure her buarsak is good too,” he mumbles.

The timer on the oven goes off and Yuuri finds himself too busy juggling hot pans to keep track of the conversation.

Over dinner, the subject turns to food again.

“What food do you miss the most during the season?” Victor asks.

“All of them,” Yuuri says.

“I don’t have to worry about that kind of thing,” Yuri says, a bit smugly.

Everyone around the table gives him a look.

“What?”

Otabek ruffles his hair. “Give it a few years. Once your metabolism slows down, you’ll be dreaming of french fries with the rest of us.”

Yuuri is impressed that Yuri doesn’t immediately bite off Otabek’s hand.

Something in what Otabek says sparks a cascade of thoughts. He thinks back to his earlier conversation with Phichit in the kitchen, how he feels when he thinks about his mother’s katsudon. The hunger, the longing for something he can’t have. He jumps from the table with excitement.

Everyone stares at him, but he’s too caught up in his realization to register embarrassment.

“I’ve found my Eros!”

Yuri and Otabek give him a blank look. Phichit offers him a confused smile. Victor, who has been quiet all day, beams at him.

“What is it?” Victor asks.

“Katsudon.”

“What?”

Victor’s face goes still for such a short fraction of a second that Yuuri wonders if he’s imagining it, then the smile is back.

“Great! I can’t wait to see your Katsudon Eros tomorrow morning.”

Yuri laughs so hard that Otabek has to rescue him from falling out of his chair.

Since Yuuri cooked, Victor does the washing up. Phichit and Otabek help each other stretch while watching the television. Yuuri brings his books out to study at the large kitchen table. For once, he wants to be part of the group. 

Yuri is holed up in the kitchen with Victor. They speak in Russian in an undertone. Yuuri’s coach before Celestino had been Russian, so he is able to pick out a few words here and there, though not enought to have any idea what they’re talking about. 

“…idiot…give up…” Yuri growls.

“No…”

Victor catches Yuuri’s glance. His cheeks turn pink and he turns the hot water on to full blast, drowning out their voices.

****Victor****

Katsudon. Fucking katsudon. This is what he’s been reduced to, feeling jealous of fried pork. He forces a smile as he waves Yuri and Otabek out the door. He promises to have a short program ready for them in a week and a long program not long after. As soon as they leave, Yuuri is putting on his coat and gloves.

“Where are you going?” Victor asks.

“Out,” Yuuri says, guilt practically dripping off of him.

“You know today is your rest day.”

“I’m not going to train. I just need to see Minako.”

Victor’s eyebrows fly almost all the way up to his forehead. Minako is not the direction he is expecting competition to come from, though now that he thinks about it, he can see it. A glamorous mature woman who speaks Yuuri’s language and reminds him of home. She probably asked him to be discrete, which is why Yuuri was so uncomfortable when Victor asked him if he had taken a lover.

“Okay, have fun,” Victor says. He won’t make this awkward by offering to join him.

Not long after Yuuri leaves, he grabs his scarf and heads for the bar down the street. He and Yuuri are training with Celestino tomorrow, but he doesn’t care.

While they were doing the dishes, Yuri had told him that he was being an idiot, that he’s going to wind up running back to Chris anyway, so why not do it sooner rather than later. There’s still time to salvage the next season. Furthermore, if he has a shred of sense, he’ll give up on this wild goose chase and beg Chris’ forgiveness before he realizes how much better his life is outside of Victor’s shadow.

After tonight, it’s getting harder to say no to those arguments. Yuuri is good, but he has a lot to learn, and being with him hurts. Being with Chris hurt too, but at least that pain is familiar, dull with age.

He stands at the bar and orders a shot, and another. A hockey game is on the television. Victor smiles to himself and settles in to watch. He doesn’t care who wins, it’s nice to just watch the players move over the ice. Even in this brutal sport, the ice lends them a certain grace that just can’t be found anywhere else.

He’s already feeling tipsy. It’s been awhile since he last drank, and dinner was light, so the alcohol hits him fast. He really should go home. He orders another shot.

“Hi.” a man saunters up to him. He’s taller than Victor, and built on muscular lines. Victor leans his elbows against the bar and offers him one of his fake smiles.

“Are you a dancer?” the man asks.

“Of a sort. How could you tell?” Victor asks. He takes the shot, and gives the man a wink.

“Your toes. They point out when you walk. I had a boyfriend who did ballet and he walked the same way.”

Victor laughs. The man’s eyes go wide and glassy in a way that Victor is very familiar with.

He stays at the bar for another couple of hours. Marco invites him to his place for another drink. Victor is tempted. After weeks of tiptoeing around Yuuri, it is such a relief to be around someone who wants him back, but in the end, he turns him down. Yuuri is the only man he wants, and Marco is nice guy. He doesn’t deserve to be used. 

Yuuri’s still up when he stumbles in. He’s in the living room, practicing choreography in front of the full length mirror. Victor immediately feels guilty. Here he is, wallowing in his feelings while Yuuri’s spent the entire night practicing.

At the sight of Victor in the doorway, a huge smile spreads across Yuuri’s face. “Victor,” he whispers, trying not wake Phichit, “I thought you’d already gone to bed.”

Victor staggers a bit and leans against the doorframe, “Hi,” he says.

“Are you drunk?” his whisper is scandalized, but his eyes sparkle with laughter.

“Will you be mad if I say yes?” Victor asks, fumbling off his scarf and jacket and letting them drop to the floor.

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I try not to do it too often.” His sweater and pants join the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Victor, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it hot in here? I always get so hot when I drink.” He peels off his briefs, wads them into a little ball, and shoots them like a basketball at Yuuri. The shot goes wide, and lands on top of the head of mildly annoyed Phichit.

“What are you two doing in here to cause all this—ack!”

Yuuri’s face is on fire as Phichit shakes off the underwear. “God, Victor, could you have worse aim? Look, I’m sorry for interrupting whatever that is.” Phichit waves at a blearily grinning Victor.

“We weren’t—” Yuuri begins, but Victor cuts in, staggering across the room wearing only his socks.

“You mean sex, don’t you. Now sex is fun. Is that what you were doing with Minako tonight, Yuuri?”

“What? No.”

Phichit starts laughing. “Oh, my god, you’re jealous.”

Victor does not deign to respond to this insolent comment. He’s too busy trying to keep his balance as his socks slip on the linoleum floor. Yuuri scoops him up bridal style before he falls. Instinctively, his arms go up around Yuuri’s neck.

Phichit laughs harder, and goes back to his room shaking his head.

Yuuri carries him to his bedroom and lays him down in bed. Victor obediently drinks the glass of water he offers, and closes his eyes as Yuuri brushes his hair away from his forehead. 

“I’m sorry, Victor,” Yuuri says.

Victor turns his face away. He can’t let Yuuri see what he feels right now.

“Sometimes I get too wrapped up in my own problems and I don’t see when someone else is hurting. I remember how hard it was when I first left home, and I at least had Yuuko. I should have known that you would be feeling homesick when Yuri left.”

Victor grabs Yuuri’s hand and pulls him down into the bed with him. How could he be so stupid? Of course Yuuri cares about him, even if it’s not the way he wants him to. He buries his face in Yuuri’s neck to hide the tear that slips down his cheek. He’s not sad, it’s just the vodka making him maudlin.

When he can speak, he says, “Stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, Victor, of course I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Papadakis and Cizeron skating to Hozier’s “Take Me to Church” at the 2014 GPF Exhibition Gala ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Twv8iWMV85o) because lord knows Victor could probably use some church after his wild night ;). Both he and Yuuri need to join the Holy Fellowship of Talking About Your Feelings. On the fun side, Papadakis’ skate costume looks remarkably similar to Yuuri’s Eros costume.
> 
> Also, Four Continents was this weekend. I did not get to watch it as I was visiting my assorted relatives. Besides, I don't think ice dance was on NBC anyway, which is soooooo annoying. 2 US pairs were on the podium (woohoo! Congrats Shibutanis and C&B!!!!). Virtue and Moir won again. They're okay, but they've been around forever and they've literally won everything this season. I'd like to see someone else take gold at least once this year, if for no other reason than to add some suspense and make things more exciting.


	11. Chapter 11

****Victor****

The tinkle of Yuuri’s phone alarm brings Victor to painful awareness. Light sears his eyes as Yuuri swipes the phone screen.

Victor groans and rolls over. 

The smell of coffee wakes him up again. A steaming cup sits on the nightstand, along with a bottle of water and two ibuprofen. 

He picks up the coffee and takes a cautious sip. It’s mostly warm. He downs it in one go. Next is the ibuprofen, chased by half a bottle of water. He stumbles into the shower and stands under the spray. His head is killing him, but his stomach isn’t rebelling, which is a good sign. He soaps up and washes his hair while his brain fights free of its alcohol-induced fog. He feels like he should be remembering something. Wait. Doesn’t he have practice with Celestino today? Damn, why hadn’t Yuuri woken him up?

He rinses the shampoo out of his hair in record time, and dashes to his room to check his phone. He’s already fifteen minutes late. If he hurries, he can hopefully keep it down to a half-hour. He dries his hair as much as he can. Going outside on a day like today with wet hair is going to _suck,_ but he doesn’t have time to blow dry it. He throws on the first clothes he finds in the closet, grabs a banana for breakfast, and dashes out the door.

He’s only twenty-five minutes late to practice. He’s shivering in spite of his brisk run to the rink, and he’s pretty sure the tips of his hair are frozen. Yuuri is practicing the step sequence for the short dance when Victor walks in.

Celestino’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yuuri told me you might not make it today. He said you had a touch of the flu.”

Victor gives him a wobbly smile. The cold and the run to the rink had done nothing to help his pounding head. “I took some medicine. I feel a lot better.”

“Good. Good. I want to see a run through on the first half of your short program. Yuuri told me that he’s made some tweaks to the choreography. I’m curious to see what he’s done.”

Victor nods, removes his skate guards and takes to the ice. He warms up quickly, then skates up to Yuuri. He executes a pretty chocktaw flipping around to skate backwards to face Yuuri.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks.

Yuuri frowns in confusion. “But you were awake. You woke up when you heard my alarm. I assumed that you were too sick to skate or you would have gotten up with me.”

Victor grins and takes Yuuri in a closed hold, turning them in a quick half-circle, so he’s the one leading. Instinctively, Yuuri lets him take it, allowing himself to turned, and adjusting his pace to Victor’s. His hand presses lightly against Victor’s chest while this time Victor is the one trying to pull him closer.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are far too sweet for your own good?” Victor asks.

“Um, no.”

“Good.” Victor gives him a lascivious grin. “Celestino wants to see the first half of Eros, up until the straight line lift where I’m in cantilever position. Sound good?”

“Yeah.”

They exchange waves with Celestino and skate to the center of the rink and take up their initial poses. Victor drops to his knees and rests his cheek against Yuuri’s thigh, his arms wrapped around his legs in a supplicant’s pose. Yuuri is distant and unaffected. The music, tinny from Yuuri’s mini speakers echos across the rink. The dance begins.

Yuuri tries to skate away, but Victor holds on, using the momentum from Yuuri’s speed to pull himself to his feet. There is something different about Yuuri’s movements today. It’s subtle. Victor takes him in a Foxtrot hold and leads him down their first diagonal step pass across the rink. The pace is insane, but Yuuri’s hands on him are calm and steady. 

Victor watches his feet, the way he cocks his hip and figures it out. Yuuri is moving like a woman. Victor stumbles and flubs the next few steps, but Yuuri is guiding him into the next sequence, and then the twizzles. Somehow they manage to nail the twizzles, and then they are almost halfway through and it is time for the big moment in the skate. Yuuri finally gives in, letting Victor reel him in, pulling him closer and closer. Victor leans back into a cantilever as Yuuri slides down and around his body until they are chest to chest. He wraps his legs around Victor’s waist then arches his back as far as it will go, until the tips of his hair almost touch the ice. He throws his arms back over his head, signaling his full surrender. This is the most risque part of the program, a not-so-subtle reference to sex.

The second Yurri gives in, Victor shakes him off. Yuuri grabs onto his ankle, letting himself be dragged across the ice before Victor shakes him off. The momentum sends him spinning away before he begins his pursuit. The music cuts off.

They skate back to Celestino, “What do you think?” Yuuri asks.

Celestino smiles and claps his hands. “I really like the changes you made. They’re subtle, but I can already see a huge difference.” He rattles off a list of things they need to work on, then closes with, “We might need to rework that last lift. I think it might come across as too literal.”

Victor narrows his eyes. That lift is the climax of the whole piece. Pulling their punches there would make the whole narrative fall apart. 

“That lift is the most dramatic moment of the program. It needs to be shocking.”

“Scandalizing the judges is not going to win you gold. That lift is a metaphor, not a demonstration. You need to tone it down.”

Victor is about to protest when Yuuri breaks in. “How about you come to us with a few different options and we can try them out and see what works best. We don’t have to make a final decision now.”

Victor and Celestino reluctantly agree, and they begin work on the second half of the program.

In the final hour of practice, Celestino has Yuuri and Victor work on the lifts that they had previously only practiced in the harness. Yuuri is still slow to trust Victor, but every time they word together, his guard drops further. 

Victor hates to admit to himself how much he likes having an excuse to run his hands all over Yuuri’s body, to hold him close. He’s too tired and hungover for other parts of himself to take an interest, but even now, after all the hours they spent together, he still can’t get enough of being close to Yuuri.

Yuuri grins up into his face. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I haven’t fallen before.

Victor suppresses the urge to kiss him. “You just don’t like not being in control. Now one more time.”

He wraps his hand around Yuuri’s wrist and skates backward across the ice. He slows his pace and pulls Yuuri close to his body. He wraps his arm around him, just below the rib cage and lifts him a couple of feet off the ground, spinning him in a half-circle. Yuuri lands on one skate, his free leg extending out as they circle each other in preparation for a pairs camel spin.

They stop when Celestino clears his throat. “That’s a lot better. You’re still too tense Yuuri, but that might actually help you in the short program. Victor, I would like to see you be a little less soft in your movements. They’re very pretty, but this program isn’t about pretty, it’s about passion.”

Victor nods. Celestino is right. 

They go again. This time, Victor is firmer, towing Yuuri close to him, as though he is his prey. He lifts him almost abruptly. Yuuri stiffens in surprise. Victor holds him a second too long to let him get his bearings before letting him down. Now they’ve rotated too far and they’re in the wrong spot. 

“Much better, up until the end. I liked what you did there Victor. Yuuri, keep the tension going throughout. Victor, I know your instinct is to make everything look soft and fluid, but I’d like you to keep things a little rough. Don’t worry about Yuuri. He’s tougher than he looks.”

They do it again and again until Victor’s head is pounding in earnest and his arms feel like noodles. By the end, they’ve got it, though. Yuuri tenses just slightly as Victor sweeps him into his arms, as if he’s a reluctant lover on the cusp of giving in. He runs away, but not for long as Victor reels him in once again.

Celestino calls for a halt, and lets them take a break before having them switch roles. It takes all of Victor’s willpower not to beg for mercy.

****

Victor is pale and shaky by the time Celestino calls a halt for the day. He feels a slight twinge in his left ankle, a sure sign that he’s over-trained. It’s his own fault for cutting his warm-up short. Yuuri still looks as fresh as a daisy. _Ugh, youth,_ he thinks. In the world of figure skating, four years might as well be a decade. He wonders if he’s really doing Yuuri a favor by becoming his skating partner. Ice dancers have a longer shelf life than figure skaters. It’s entirely possible he could still be skating in his mid-thirties. But he will have to stop someday, and where will that leave Yuuri? Hunting for yet another partner to squeeze a few more years out of his career?

He tries to avoid his next thought, but it comes anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to leave Yuuri now, let him find a partner who’s younger, who has more energy, who won’t abandon him yet again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this program is extra-special for a couple of reasons. First it is one of my all-time favorites. I love this ice dance because I love the way the way Virtue interprets it. She's skates the role of Carmen in a way that is bound to turn some people off, but is utterly captivating and imo true to the music. Second, I visualize that Victor and Yuuri's Eros program would look something like this program. Anyway, have [ Virtue and Moir skating to Carmen in 2013.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1Oa39Uojj0)


	12. Chapter 12

****Yuuri****

The buzzing of Yuuri’s phone wakes him up. It’s only 10:30 at night, a reasonable hour for most college students, but it might as well be midnight for a competitive skater with an early morning training session. 

He rolls over and checks his messages. It’s a text from Aisha, letting him know that she just emailed him the new composition. He switches to his laptop and downloads the file. He’s just about to pop in his earbuds when he realizes that Victor would really want to listen to this song as well. 

He gets out of bed and steals into Victor’s room. Victor sits up at the sight of Yuuri tiptoeing in. “Aisha sent over the new version. I thought we could listen to it together for the first time.”

Victor grins. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

Yuuri crawls up the foot of the bed, and sits on Victor’s thighs. “I’ve heard bits and pieces while she was putting it together, but this will be the first time I’ve heard it all at once.”

He pops an earbud into Victor’s ear, unable to resist trailing his thumb across the underside of Victor’s chin. It’s one of the few soft places on his body, though this late in the day, Yuuri can feel the slightest sandpaper hint of stubble.

He puts the other earbud into his own ear and presses play.

Familiar piano music fills the silence. Victor closes his eyes, his face going intense with concentration. He nods when the violin enters the arrangement, murmuring, “yes, that’s what it needed.”

He holds his breath when the music pauses, and the piano is left to play alone. He breathes again when the violin rejoins the piano, the two instruments weaving the melody together right up until the final notes.

Yuuri isn’t quite sure when he falls forward to lean his forehead against Victor’s shoulder. The song is perfect. The notes from the piano shimmer like sunlight on water, and the violin dances like the wind in the trees. He sits up and studies Victor’s face, but his expression doesn’t reveal any clues. 

“What do you think?” Yuuri asks, hoping that he feels the same way he does.

“I love it,” he says in a voice gone hoarse.

“I love it, too,” Yuuri says. He feels like he’s missing something, like they’re talking about something more than the song, but Victor picks up his phone and begins furiously tapping into it.

“Sorry I want to jot a few notes down while they’re still fresh. This is going to be a joy to choreograph. There are so many options, and it plays to our strengths,” Victor says.

Yuuri tumbles forward and hugs him. “I’m so glad you like it.”

Victor’s arms come up around him. “I’m so glad you were able to find such a wonderful song for our free skate. What do you think we should call it?”

Yuuri sits back on his heels and shrugs. “I don’t know. It says so many things to me. It feels like love, but it’s not selfish like the Eros in our short program, and it’s more playful than the Agape from Yuri and Otabek’s program. It’s like the perfect kind of love with two people who can survive when they are apart, but become much more when they are together. Is there a word for that?”

“Not in any language I know.”

“Not for me, either.”

“We’ll leave it nameless for now, I guess.”

Victor lifts the blankets for Yuuri to snuggle in beside him. They listen to the song a few more times before they drift off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

****Victor****

It’s only a matter of time before they have their first fight. Victor knows this. It’s impossible to spend as much time wrapped up in each other as ice dancers do, and not have disagreements. His early arguments with Chris had been tempestuous to say the least, though toward the end they’d petered out to little more than resentful sighs.

Victor and Yuuri are both conflict avoidant in their own ways. Yuuri stores everything up until it explodes in the most damaging way possible. Victor avoids conflict by persuading everyone to give him what he wants while thinking it is their idea in the first place. Yuuri, for all his quiet manner is the most stubborn man Victor has ever met, which makes managing him practically impossible.

They are practicing one of the riskier lifts in their program. They’ve been working on it for quite a while, so they feel safe enough doing it when Celestino is not around. Victor is tired. It’s the day before their rest day, their toughest day of training. He felt like he was running on empty when he woke up and the nagging cold he’s fighting off is not helping.

Yuuri moves into a spin, releasing Victor’s legs, which he had been supporting at waist height. Victor is supposed to swing them around, gripping Yuuri’s neck while Yuuri also grips his, their lips almost touching. It’s part of the big combination lift at the end their short dance.

Yuuri releases his legs. Victor locks his grip around Yuuri’s neck, but he’s a second too late and his hands slip. Yuuri lets go of his neck. Holding on could mean risking a spinal injury, but instead of fully releasing him, he grabs him around the waist, holding him close to his body, even as he loses his balance and falls on his backside, taking Victor with him.

Victor sits up on his knees, straddling Yuuri. Once he sees that he’s alright, he realizes that he’s _angry_. The kind of angry that he hasn’t felt since he could remember. Not even when he and Chris were at their worst did he feel like this.

“You-you-idiot!” he yells, only belated realizing that he’s speaking Russian.

Judging by Yuuri’s red face, he understands that much at least.

_“You want to injure self?”_

His English always goes to shit when he’s upset. He takes a deep breath and tries again, slower this time. “What is wrong with you? Are you trying to get us both hurt?”

“It was an accident,” Yuuri says, “I saw you falling and I didn’t think. I just acted.”

“Well, next time, don’t act. I know how to fall without getting injured. You have to trust me, Yuuri. I’m your partner. If you can’t trust me, this is not going to work.”

Tears start pouring down Yuuri’s cheeks. Regret stabs Victor in the breastbone. What is wrong with him? He knows Yuuri can be fragile.Victor feels the words, “I’m sorry,” push against his lips, but he doesn’t say them, not yet. A perverse part of him wants to see Yuuri give in first. What he doesn’t expect is for Yuuri to poke him in the chest with his index finger, and demand through his tears, “Tell me, Victor, why did your grip slip?”

“What?” Victor’s not expecting Yuuri to turn the tables on him.

“Why did you fall? Why did you let go of me?”

This is not an angle of attack Victor is expecting.

“You’re Victor-fucking-Nikiforov. You don’t make mistakes. Why did you make a mistake?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, “I was tired. I wasn’t concentrating and I missed the timing.”

“You were tired?” Yuuri’s voice goes low and dangerous.

“I’ve been on the ice for four hours. I’m exhausted. What do you want me to say?”

“If you’re exhausted, you shouldn’t be doing dangerous lifts. You have enough experience to know better. Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

Victor thought he was angry earlier. Now he’s enraged. How dare Yuuri lecture him on knowing his limits? Fuck him and his fucking perfect English. “Pardon me for not being Yuuri-fucking-Katsuki, the fucking robot who can skate for eight hours straight without getting winded, who has the most insane training schedule on the planet. You’re the most selfish, pig-headed idiot I’ve ever met,” _and I love you, God I love you so much even when I want to strangle you._

Yuuri glares at him in confusion, and Victor realizes that he’s not sure how much of what he just said came out in English.

He gets to his feet and skates toward the edge of the rink. Yuuri intercepts him, grabbing both his wrists and spinning him a half-circle.

“We’re not done yet.”

“Yes, we are.”

Yuuri takes him in a closed hold. Victor’s hand instinctively comes up, trying to push him away, but Yuuri begins skating, and of their own volition, Victor’s feet follow him.

“Victor, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should trust you. I’m going to try to do better. I won’t try to catch you next time you fall.”

This time it’s Victor’s turn to spin them in a half-circle, reversing the roles so that now he’s holding Yuuri close. “You were right too. I should be more honest about when I know I’ve met my body’s limits. I’ve been so busy worrying about keeping up with you.”

The tension in Yuuri’s body eases a fraction, moving him an inch closer. “You don’t need to worry about keeping up with me. My training schedule is insane because I’m trying to catch up with you. You don’t need all these hours on the ice or on the barre. You already have the technical skills to be a World Champion. I need you sharp and safe when you’re here. If you hurt yourself over-training, you’re not going to do anybody any good.”

“When we get back, we’ll rework the schedule, see what things it makes sense to cut back on,” Victor says.

Yuuri nods. Victor releases him from the closed hold, but does not release his hand.

He marvels at the feeling of the black-gloved palm against his. He’d never in his life imagined that an argument would bring him closer to someone. Yuuri continues to be full of surprises.

****Yuuri****

After their fight, an unspoken tension evaporates. Victor’s seen Yuuri’s worst side—selfish and bossy, irrational and mistrustful, and he’s decided to stay with him anyway. If that’s not enough to drive him away, then nothing will—at least not until his year is up.

They rework Victor’s schedule, giving him lighter workouts and more recovery time. For his part, Victor pours his new energy into what Yuuri thinks of as “the business side of skating,” and coincidentally, the side of his career that Yuuri neglects the most. He has a few sponsorships from some Japanese companies, which combined with a government stipend have allowed him to scrape by, but Victor thinks bigger.

“Guess who’s travelling to the World Championships for free?” Victor asks one day.

“Who?” Yuuri asks.

“Us.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, the FSU wants to fly us to Tokyo, first class, no less, to do an exhibition program.”

“But we don’t have an exhibition program.”

“I’m sure we can throw something together.”

“Yeah. Do you think we can squeeze in some time to visit Hatsetsu?”

Victor frowns. “I’m not sure, but I bet I could arrange transportation and a hotel for your parents in Tokyo if you think they can come.”

Yuuri bounces on his toes with excitement. His parents haven’t gotten a chance to see him perform in years. And it won’t be for a competition, which means he won’t be eaten up by nerves the entire time. He’ll actually be able to enjoy them.

“I would love that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Next week the boys are going on the road to Japan where lots of fun times and drama are going to be had. :D 
> 
> In celebration of nothing in particular have [Papadakis and Cizeron's Exhibition Program from 2017 European Championships.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuAJKuQZqOY) I love these two. Their chemistry is scorching, their skating is amazeballs. Papadakis is so fluid and effortless while Cizeron skates like a prima ballerina.


	13. Chapter 13

****Yuuri****

It doesn’t take long for Victor to put together the bones of an exhibition program. They decide early on to use the step sequences from their short dance.

“I’ll do almost all of the lifts,” Victor says, “this will be a good opportunity for you to get used to performing as the lifted partner.”

They choose a swing reinterpretation of a classic pop song. Since they are using the step sequence from Eros, they decide to go for a sexy theme, with a few tweaks to make it playful rather than tragic.

Before Yuuri knows it, winter flows into spring. Phichit has a shot at medaling in the World Championships this year. His coach, Celestino’s twin sister, has his daily schedule mapped out in fifteen minute increments. Yuuri and Victor take over the cooking and cleaning duties with no comment. 

One cloud mars Yuuri’s happiness. As the months pass, he begins to suspect that Victor is hiding something from him. Yuuri can’t explain the reasons behind his suspicions. Victor doesn’t do or say anything suspect, but sometimes whenever he thinks Yuuri isn’t looking, a wistfulness creeps into his expression.

“Are you in love with Christophe?” Yuuri asks one day. He’s sitting in bed, trying to read a book for class, but it’s boring, and his brain is tired of trying to make sense of the English words on the page. At some point Victor had wormed his way in beside him. He says he’s tracking audience engagement with their brand, but as far as Yuuri can tell, all he’s really doing is obsessively checking the comments on the selfie he’d posted earlier today.

There’s a beat of silence. Yuuri is about to apologize for asking such an invasive question when Victor looks up at him from his phone. “No, why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” Yuuri says, hoping his relief isn’t too obvious. Then another thought strikes him. “ _Were_ you in love with Christophe?”

Victor pushes his hair out of his eyes. “That is a complicated question. We were lovers, years ago. Did I love him? I don’t know. I cared about him a lot, but we couldn’t make each other happy. I feel like we each became a little worse when we were together.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes and no. I miss our friendship. The rest of it, no, I wouldn’t go back. Don’t get me wrong, Chris is a good person, but we weren’t good together.”

“But you were amazing on the ice. You probably would have gone undefeated two years in a row if you’d finished out the season.”

“Winning is important, but it isn’t everything. It didn’t make me happy.”

“Are you happy now?”

“I’m happier than I can remember feeling in a long time.” He gives Yuuri that look again.

Yuuri screws up his courage. Victor isn’t going to tell him the truth unless he asks directly. “You have that look again.”

“What look?”

“The sad one that you get sometimes when you think I’m not watching.”

Victor’s mask returns. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.”

Yuuri glares. He tosses his book onto the nightstand with a thump that echoes in the sudden silence. He shoves his glasses up his nose and turns to straddle Victor. He is not letting him escape from this conversation. “I’m not stupid, you know. That smile you wear all the time, I can see it’s fake, and that’s fine. I understand what it’s like to not want to feel like you’re walking around naked. But I need you to tell me the truth. If you’re depressed, I need to know. If there’s something you’re unhappy about, I need to know. These kinds of things can affect your skating. If we’re going to have trust between us, I need you to be honest with me.”

Victor’s eyes close in a grimace of pain. “You’re right, of course. The truth is embarrassing, but I guess you should know. I’m suffering from an unrequited crush. The object of my affections has made it quite clear that he’s not interested, so I’m trying to move past it as best as I can.”

Yuuri tries not to be offended on Victor’s behalf. How dare anyone reject Victor? He’s gorgeous, talented, charming. Anyone would be lucky to have him. “Well, whoever he is, he’s an idiot.”

Victor laughs weakly. “You’re probably right.”

****

Over the next few weeks, Yuuri tries to suppress his jealousy at the thought of Victor pining for this mysterious someone. He’s not very successful. On the plus side, his short program has never looked better.

For his part, Victor slowly lets his mask fade when they’re alone together. He doesn’t try to hide it anymore when he’s feeling sad or frustrated. He’s not as “nice” as he used to be, but Yuuri likes this new Victor. He trusts him, and before long that trust manifests itself in his skating.

Yuuri is no longer stiff in his lifts. He moves across the ice with more confidence, safe in the knowledge that Victor will be in the right place when he needs to be. Victor can’t keep the smile off his face at their practices, and even Celestino is finding fewer things to critique. Skating with Victor feels like a happy dream. Victor already feels like an extension of his body. Even outside the rink they’re connected, more often than not spending half their nights in one-another’s beds, holding hands as they walk down the street, and tending the minor hurts that come with intense training.

They have their exhibition down solid weeks before they need to perform, and are ahead of where they expect to be on their free dance. 

Before Yuuri knows it, spring has arrived and it’s time for him and Victor to travel to the World Championships.

****

Yuuri can’t help but feel overwhelmed when he steps off the plane from Japan. After a year in the US, it feels so good to see Japanese characters again, to hear the familiar rhythms of his mother tongue. His mouth waters at the thought of finally eating katsudon again. 

He and Victor get their bags and stand in line for customs.

“Business or leisure?” The agent asks.

“Business,” Yuuri replies, only to be met with a blank look. Belatedly, he realizes that he had replied in English.

“Business,” he says again, this time in Japanese. The agent stamps his passport and waves him through. He finds a bench nearby and waits for Victor to pass through the line for non-citizens. As he does, a few fans spot him. Victor smiles and graciously signs a few autographs. Yuuri rests his chin on the top of his luggage, thinking about how long it’s been since he’s seen _that_ smile. Victor’s real smiles are so much better.

“Sorry about that,” Victor says as he catches up to Yuuri.

“No worries,” Yuuri says.

A driver is waiting to take them to the hotel where Victor has arranged for a suite for them to share.

“Is it always like this when you travel?” Yuuri asks once they’re alone in their hotel room, trying not to stare at the bottle of complimentary champagne cooling in a bucket of ice.

“Yes, usually, except when I travel to Detroit, of course,” he says, “the amenities there aren’t as fancy, but the company is a lot better.”

Yuuri stares around him. He feels strange. He’d never thought about what it would be like to be Victor Nikiforov, the kind of person who takes flying first class and sleeping in fancy hotel suites for granted. He’d never thought of his apartment in Detroit as small, but compared this, it’s a shoebox.

_What is Victor doing with me?_ he wonders, _why would he give up all this to live in a cramped student apartment with a couple of mediocre skaters?_ Okay, one mediocre skater. Phichit is genuinely talented.

“You want first shower?” Yuuri asks.

Victor frowns at him.

“Are you okay? You sound really strange.”

Yuuri gives him what he knows is a sickly smile. “I’m great. It feels so good to be in my home country again.”

“Okay,” Victor says.

The second Victor leaves his sight, Yuuri looks for photos of Victor’s apartment online. Naturally, he finds them in an article for an architectural magazine. It’s beautiful of course. Huge and airy with lots of light. No wonder he is so obsessed with lamps.

He thinks about Victor’s clothes. He doesn’t wear anything with ostentatious labels, but there’s no mistaking from the cut and fabric that they’re expensive. Yuuri’s best pair of jeans came from The Gap.

The sound from the shower cuts off. Yuuri digs into his bag for his toiletries. He needs some time to think.

****Victor****

As soon as he gets out of the shower, he can feel Yuuri start to pull away from him. Again. He wonders what caused it this time. He’s been careful to avoid flirting with him. If they were in Detroit, Victor would ask him about it right away to see if this is something he should push harder on or let go. But he’s meeting Yuuri’s parents for the first time tonight, and he really doesn’t want to start an argument, or worse, push Yuuri even further away.

He slathers on two layers of deodorant. He wonders if Yuuri’s mother and father will be able to see what he really feels for him. He’s heard that parents have a sixth sense about this kind of thing. He’s not sure if he wants them to know or not. 

He unpacks his clothes, hanging up his shirts and slacks. They’re only going to be in Tokyo for a few days, but he brought enough outfits to last a week.

He unfolds the ironing board and debates whether he should iron his pants or just put them in the trouser press. He decides to iron them. The creases will come out crisper.

He’s making a final pass on the trousers of his best suit when Yuuri steps out of the bathroom. He almost singes the ironing board at the sight of Yuuri, his hair damp from the shower, fumbling with the belt of his yukata. Victor can just see the stark line where his hair meets the nape of his neck. He needs a haircut. The smell of burning starch has him yanking the iron so hard that he pulls the cord out of the wall socket.

Yuuri looks up at him. “What is it?” he asks.

Victor sets down the iron to cool. His pants are done anyway. “Sorry, you startled me, that’s all.”

He picks up his trousers and clips them to the hanger and puts them in the closet with the rest of his suit.

“Why are you ironing?” Yuuri asks around a yawn.

“I thought I’d wear something nice to dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re not going anywhere fancy. Jeans and a sweater should be fine.”

“Oh,” Victor says, trying not to feel disappointed.

Yuuri blushes. “We can go somewhere nice if you want, after mom and dad leave town.”

Victor frowns. There’s something that Yuuri’s not saying, but he can’t figure out what it is. 

They have an extra hour. Yuuri takes a nap to sleep off some of the jet lag, but Victor is too restless. He presses the rest of the clothes in his suitcase, then in a moment of panic, downs one of the tiny bottles of vodka from the mini fridge. Rather than soothe his nerves, this makes his panic about a hundred times worse. What if Yuuri’s parents smell the alcohol on his breath?

He runs to the bathroom and brushes his teeth before rinsing his mouth out with mouthwash. 

He meets his eyes in the mirror. The light is harsh and unflattering. It practically shines a spotlight on the place on top of his head where his hair is getting thin. He inspects his face for wrinkles. He can see the beginnings of crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes. He looks old.

Arms wrap around him and a warm body presses against his back. “What’s wrong?” Yuuri whispers into his neck.

“I’m worried your parents won’t like me,” he says.

“You’re right, they won’t like you,” Yuuri says, a laugh in his voice, “they already love you. You saved my skating career. Celestino’s been singing your praises. Minako adores you.”

“Minako?”

“She’s originally from Hasetsu. She and Mom skype every week.”

“Oh.”

****

Yuuri’s parents meet them in the hotel lobby as soon as they’ve had a chance to put their bags away. They greet Victor warmly in English, putting the worst of his fears to rest. They walk down the street to a famiresu.

Yuuri’s parents are nice in a genuine way that reminds Victor of Phichit. They exchange pleasantries, and ask him about his trip. He very quickly finds himself slipping out of charm-mode, and talking to them like he would Yuuri. Before he quite knows what’s happening, he finds himself agreeing to come to their inn and visit the onsen the next time he is in Japan. 

At the end of the evening, he tries to pick up the check, but Yuuri’s dad insists on paying. The tab is modest, but Victor can tell that Yuuri’s parents aren’t wealthy people.

They say their goodbyes at the hotel lobby. Victor and Yuuri are exhausted from their trip and they have to get up early the next day to rehearse their exhibition skate.

“I love your parents,” Victor says as he strips down to his boxers, “you are so lucky to have them.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, putting on a pair of flannel pajamas. He’s still chilled from the walk to the hotel.

“What are your parents like? Will I get a chance to see them at Rostelecom?”

“No, I doubt it. They do diplomatic work. They don’t get to come back very often.”

“Wow, that must be really tough.”

“Yeah, they’ve made a lot of sacrifices.”

“I was talking about you. You must miss them a lot.”

“I’m used to it. I understand how important their work is.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes at him.

Crap. He’s been caught giving Yuuri the same canned answer he gives everyone else whenever his parents come up.

“I’m not close with my parents. They were gone most of the time when I was a kid. I was mostly raised by my grandparents, and then when they couldn’t do it anymore, I split my time between my aunt and uncle. Once I moved into Seniors, and I was able to support myself with my skating, I got my own place.”

Yuuri stares at him, disbelieving. “You moved into Seniors when you were seventeen.”

“Yeah, so?”

Yuuri hugs him, resting his cheek on Victor’s shoulder. Victor can feel the silky brush of his hair against his jaw. His body is so warm, so vital.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he says, “my family’s well-off. I wasn’t abused or neglected.”

“I’m not hugging you because I feel sorry for you,” Yuuri says, “I’m thanking you for reminding me how lucky I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah, sorry for the big gap between updates. RL has been a kick in the pants and doesn't look likely to slow down anytime soon. On the plus side, WORLDS STARTS TOMORROW and this chapter takes place at Worlds #synergy #FSUyoucanpaymewithcatpictures #nbcplzplzshowicedanceonnetworktv #cuzimtoocheaptopayforcable
> 
> In honor of Worlds, have a video of my all-time favorite performance ever from my favorite pair, Cizeron and Papadakis. They won Worlds with[ this skate ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rGHeK1V2rU)and it is so beautiful, and just hng. It makes me all tingly every time I watch it. 
> 
> Cizeron and Papadakis will be at Worlds again this year. I'm cheering for them so hard. I'm really hoping they win. If not them, then hopefully an American team, and if not them, then anyone but Virtue and Moir--who are lovely, but they've won EVERYTHING this year. I'd like to see someone else take home the gold.


	14. Chapter 14

****Yuuri****

They rise with the sun the next morning. It’s going to be a busy day. They have two hours of press interviews, then the final rehearsal for their exhibition skate, a fancy luncheon with ISU officials and event sponsors, more press interviews, two meetings with potential sponsors, the gala, a fancy dinner with a bunch of bigwigs from Mizuno, and finally the banquet.

Yuuri dresses in his best suit and runs his comb under the faucet before slicking his hair back from his face. He catches Victor’s eye in the mirror. He’s staring.

“What?” he asks.

“You look different.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He tries to slip past Victor, but he stops him with a light touch on his wrist. He reaches up and teases a few strands out of place.

“You don’t want to look too perfect,” he says with a wink, and then goes into the bathroom to finish his own ablutions.

The interviews pass by in a hazy blur. Talking to the press always makes Yuuri nervous. He lets Victor do most the talking. This strategy works well with the foreign press, who are far more interested in Victor anyway. The local reporters, on the other hand, ask him way too many questions, especially about his chances of winning next year. He repeats the canned answers that Celestino has given him until he begins to feel like a platitude repeating robot.

Then it’s time for rehearsals. Yuuri is happy to be on the ice again. Most of the other skaters are still recovering from yesterday’s competition, so the place is relatively empty. Yuuri feels a sting of regret at what could have been. If he had held it together at nationals, he and Yuuko would have competed yesterday. He doesn’t deserve to be here. Victor is probably the only reason they were invited at all. 

He finishes changing first and decides to start his warm-up a few minutes early instead of waiting for Victor. He could use a few moments alone on the ice to clear his head.

He’s bending over to take off his skate guards when he suddenly feels the crack of a stinging blow against his backside. He jumps, and just barely suppresses a scream. He straightens and turns to see Christophe leaning against he barrier. 

Oh no. His face is on fire. “Hi,” he says in a voice gone tight.

“Hello.” Christophe draws out the word, his voice pitched low. 

Yuuri searches his face for evidence of anger, and finds nothing. Christophe’s posture is relaxed and inviting. He’s leaning into Yuuri, but in friendly get-to-know-you way rather than a I’m-going-to-break-your-legs way.

“I see how it is. You never write, you never call,” he says playfully.

“Um, sorry?” Yuuri says. What is he going on about?

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy with my erstwhile skating partner. I should probably be jealous, but hey, better you than me.”

Yuuri squares his shoulders. He’s not about to let anyone bad-mouth Victor.

“Victor has been nothing but—”

Christophe presses his index finger against Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri swallows. He’s not sure what he’s stumbled into, but he already suspects that whatever game is going on between Christophe and Victor is way over his head.

“You were going to say ‘perfect?’”

Yuuri takes a step back.

“Let me tell you something about Victor. He’s very good at playing roles. Depending on what you want, he’ll be the most generous lover, the most inspiring mentor, or the most thoughtful friend. But if you look closely enough, you’ll see that there is a wall around him. And once you hit that wall it’s over, even if you don’t know it yet, because he will never ever ever let you in. It doesn’t matter long you’ve known him, or how close you think you are. He will only ever show you the sides of himself that he wants you to see.”

Yuuri thinks about their fight a few months ago. He’s pretty sure he saw a side of Victor then that Victor would rather Yuuri not have seen, but he doesn’t see any point in arguing.

“I’m sorry about what happened between you and Victor,” he says.

“Don’t be. It has nothing to do with you. Now,” he leans forward an inch and cocks his head, his posture subtly shifting from friendly to flirtatious, “how have you been since I last saw you?”

A warm hand drops onto Yuuri’s shoulder. “Chris, it’s so great to see you again. Are you performing at the gala?”

Christophe straightens and offers Yuuri a small, rueful smile.

“No, I’m just here to support Georgi. Doing my best to be a good partner. You know how it goes.”

Victor nods. “Poor guy. We arrived too late to see his performance, but we saw the standings.”

Christophe winces. “Yeah, they did pretty well, considering. This was not a good year for him and Anya to choose Together Forever as a theme. On the plus side, new season, new partner, and Georgi is hungry for a gold medal now that he’s no longer in your shadow.”

“And you, Chris?” Victor asks.

Christophe runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s just say Georgi’s not the only one with something to prove.”

A pair of skaters leaves the ice and a rink official approaches with a clipboard.

Victor waves back. “We have rehearsal now, but I really would love to catch up sometime. Text me when you have a free minute and maybe we could all meet up later. I haven’t seen Georgi in forever.”

Christophe shakes his head. “Text me when _you_ have some free time. I remember these little trips from when we were together. Wall to wall press interviews and sponsor meetings. Ugh. Don’t let him work you too hard, Yuuri. It’s okay to have a little fun every once in awhile.”

Yuuri nods. Christophe leans forward and kisses him on both cheeks before kissing him on the lips. The pressure is light, and fleeting. It could be mistaken for a slightly too familiar farewell, except Chris follows it up with a wink.

He and Victor exchange the same farewell, except Christophe does not go for the lips.

Then they’re on the ice warming up. Yuuri can feel Christophe’s eyes on him like a physical thing. He’s not sure how he feels about it.

Once he’s finished his individual warmup, he catches Victor around the waist and takes off with him across the rink in outside position. Victor doesn’t say anything, but Yuuri can tell without looking that he’s grinning.

Of course he’s going to make him ask, the insufferable ass.

“Why isn’t Christophe angry with me?” he asks.

Victor gives him a confused look. “Why should he be? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but we’re together, you’re not.”

“True, but that’s my doing, not yours. Chris understands that.”

“I guess you’re right.” Yuuri doesn’t have the nerve to ask why Christophe had been so flirty with him, so they skate on in silence until they’re ready to run through their program. 

Yuuri goes through the motions. He can do this program in his sleep. It mostly consists of elements from their short dance tweaked and rearranged a bit here and there to completely change the tone and message of the program. It’s still sexy, but the sexuality is muted, just beneath the surface, and the tone light and fun, rather than dark and raw.

After they leave the ice Victor’s eyes on him are dark and worried, but they have to rush to shower and dress if they’re going to make the luncheon on time, so there’s no chance to talk things through.

The afternoon passes in a blur of misery. Yuuri remembers why he hates this part of competitive skating. Fortunately, most of the attention is on Victor, who fields questions with a sunny smile, thoroughly charming everyone. Yuuri trails in his wake, trying not to be too intimidated by all these besuited people who could make or break his career.

After what feels like an eternity, it’s time for the gala. Yuuri puts all of his pent-up frustration and worry into the dance, his nerves adding that little bit of sharpness that pushes his performance from good to great. Victor is a pro, of course, feeding off Yuuri’s energy while pouring in his own. Yuuri feels, rather than sees it when the audience gets to their feet. Victor’s hands are on his waist, guiding him into a lift that has him standing on one skate on Victor’s bent thigh, his back arched like a figurehead on the prow of a ship. He gets in position, waits half a beat for the perfect moment, and extends his arms in triumph. The audience loses their minds.

Victor slips an arm behind his knees. Yuuri allows Victor to cradle him bridal style as he goes into a spin. Victor releases his legs, letting Yuuri’s lower body fly away from him one rotation before allowing his skates to touch ice. They spin together for a couple of rotations before moving on to the last element. Yuuri can barely hear the music over the cheers of the audience, can barely think through the intense awareness of Victor’s hands on his body. At the appropriate musical cue, he rips his hand from Victor’s grip, spinning away on one knee. Victor crawls across the ice, imploring. The music swells again. Yuuri meets him halfway, pulling him to his feet and spinning with him in a circle, pulling him closer and closer until their bodies meet, their skates just inches apart. Their mouths…

Victor’s eyes glow electric blue in the reflected light from the ice. The music stops. Their bodies stop. It would be safe to kiss him now, no risk of sending them tumbling off balance. He pushes Victor’s hair out of his eyes and leans the slightest bit forward. Only an inch separates their mouths.

Victor’s body goes rigid and he pulls away. That smile, the one Yuuri hates is back. Then he and Yuuri are bowing before the audience, sending each other into spins before skating off the ice. Yuuri feels giddy and a little strange. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was drunk. As soon as they are off the ice, Victor pulls him into a hug.

“That was amazing. I haven’t had so much fun at an exhibition program in years. Although, I think we might need to work on our—”

Yuuri claps a hand over Victor’s mouth. “Victor, I’m sure you’re right, but could you please wait a few minutes before dragging me back to reality.”

Victor nods, and Yuuri releases him, allowing his head to rest on his shoulder for a few seconds.

“That straight line lift we did toward the end of the program went a lot better than it did in practice.”

Yuuri tightens his arms around him. Victor can’t help being Victor. Then Christophe’s words come echoing back to him. What if this isn’t Victor? No, surely not. Not even Victor could pull off something so elaborate. He puts on his blade guards and goes to change. There’s no chance to watch the other performers at the exhibition because he and Victor have to rush to dinner with the Mizuno representatives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really hoping to be able to post last week because Worlds! Synergy! but then rl showed up to kick me in butt and I spent the weekend being cornered by Annoying Old People lecturing me about my life choices--it was a family event, and my family lives in a small town in the south, so yeah, you can probably fill in the blanks. Fortunately, on Sunday night I got to hop on a plane back my glorious den of iniquity in the city where people mind their own damn business. Hooray!
> 
> As far as Worlds go, Virtue and Moire won gold (sigh), but P&C got silver (yay!). The Shibutanis won bronze (yaaay! Americans on the podium!). Since I've already posted V&M and the Shibutanis, [have P&C's free dance from this year ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SwGAKU27K0). I love this free dance to a ridiculous degree. The music reminds me a bit of Yuri's FS in that it tells a story. The music starts out very stripped down, then adds a frenetic bit of piano, then there's a dark moment, and then there's a beautiful waltz that just breaks my heart. So wonderful!

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering why updates have slowed down to once per week, well rl is kicking my butt a bit. I got a promotion at my job (hooray!), but that also means I had to change departments, so I'm having to learn a lot quickly, which means extra hours. On top of that, my evening classes have started ramping up, which means writing time has narrowed down to what I can squeeze in on the weekends. I am still working on the story though, and I expect I should be able to post a new chapter every week.
> 
> Comments, kudos, emoticons, flailing, gifs, etc. are all welcome and very much appreciated. I don’t have any social media accounts because I’m lazy, so this is the only place you will find me.


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